#(I just wish a little less time was spent on the opening horror stuff but at least the animated sequence had neat effects)

[koushirouizumi]

mE: (*falling over sobbing watching G.G. Ep 62*)

[kingabezka]

.. I think I saw the signs for dst awhile ago. Something about the change of a less sketchy dark artstyle, something about losing indie game status, something about this sole focus upon endgame content and less about the surviving, making a life in a harsh world aspect.

It ate me alive, seeing that lunar island update but the eldritch horror that could have contrasted against the horror of Them being more.. cartoon dimmed down for boss fights and "hurry hurry, get to endgame content, rush through the actual survival aspect, no time to smell the roses you need to mega base and meta play just to get to all this New Stuff!!-"

.. One can only go so far with creating ideas and expanding as much as one can when the canon game has begun to feel... more of a game than a story.

I used to play dst constantly. At some point a few years ago, every time I tried to play I'd get. Tired out after a couple of days. I'm still trying, because the thought of mapping the island, putting little mini camps around and having a garden and a beefalo and a gated spot for pet rabbits and gobblers sounds nice, maybe go cave diving or sailing every once in awhile - but none of that is endgame boss content, so none of that is what Klei wants for their game.

I don't know. I don't want to give up, but.. I'm not the target audience anymore. I can only hold on for so long when I miss my memories of playing the game than actually playing the game itself...

As I talked with someone about this, in private and not on the forums, they worded it pretty much perfectly:

"Klei is filtering out the players who made their game popular and who the game was originally created for."

We've done our part. We've spent the money, we showed our friends, we were part of the community. Now that they can, they will replace the door that required you to have the motivation and certain dedication in order to get through, with wider and easier to get through door that at the same time won't let the previous people through. I've been playing for less than 3 years, and even I can see that by opening the game to "casual" players (I mean people who do not want to put effort in order to have fun. I don't mean that as an insult. I'm a casual player in many games. I hate the new content in Minecraft precisely because it was always about going into a cave and mining iron, sometimes on peaceful mode because I just wanted to relax, and the Warden and all that nonsense is trying to make me fight and upgrade my armor constantly, which is not what I want to do. Let's not talk about it.) Klei is making a game that lacks the things original players wanted.

I mentioned this on the forums, but the game DST is becoming already exists. There's plenty of games where you complete little goals to win the game. DS was one of the very few games on the market that offered you the Intrinsic Motivation gameplay. People making megabases were the perfect example. There was nothing making them stay in their world. But they chose to anyway. And then you could do this whole experience in multiplayer. I don't know any other game that will grant me this experience. With a beautiful style, music and lore. With deep and fascinating characters. With un-invasive monetization style.

The fact it's not just this update, but several updates over the years that made singular people leave, one by one, is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because some of us could enjoy the game for a little bit longer. A curse, because you just feel so alone when you realize this game is no longer for you.

I'm sorry Anon we have to go through this. I wish we lived in a world where art is created to be art, not to be sold.

[illumilu]

there’s only one bed” - illumi zoldyck x reader

a/n: a very stereotypical cliche for fanfics, but, yk what? cringe makes the world go round. so here, have my drabbling of what would happen if you were to spend an unwanted night in the same hotel bed as the adultrio. i feel like i may have made this way too long again, but who cares?? this time it’s with illumi! aka loml ...

summary: after a lengthy car trip, you arrive at the hotel with illumi, but to your horror (wink wink), there’s only one bed. including: you dreaming abt him when he’s literally right in front of you (embarrassing). this is part two of a three-part series, with the adultrio. hisoka is already written and chrollo will be coming soon!

warnings: no particular trigger warnings, lowercase intended, a lot of fluff! and cuddling! only on your part though, since illumi is basically awkwardness personified... no nsfw <3

illumi zoldyck:

- the trip to the hotel had taken 6 hours. 6 hours in which you had fallen asleep multiple times, cramped your legs, somehow made every sleeping position dangerously uncomfortable, cracked your neck and twisted your back, possibly to the point of no return.

- for mr zoldyck, or rather, “illumi”, as he had instructed you to call him, the trip was no problem. his upbringing, which consisted of mainly torture, included staying awake for as long as a fortnight at a time. 6 hours may as well have been a few minutes. 

- “the silent son of the zoldycks” was his reputational nickname, or, rather, “lifeless koi fish”, as your friend, hisoka, enjoyed calling him. either way, illumi was not going to let a car ride tire him.

- when you had first met him, he had scared you. a lot. the entire “trained dangerous traumatised assassin” storyline was one that felt like a threat. you were undoubtedly taking a risk by working with him, but it was one you were willing to; it may have been twisted, but murder was your forte, and you were searching for a partner.

- over time, you had grown to be less intimidated by him.

- you were now colleagues with him, working on a new assassination.

- shockingly, planning murder took time, and who better to plan it with than the assassin himself? you had spent the past day on a “business trip”, paid for by illumi’s grandfather, where you sized up the area and familiarised yourself with yorknew.

- all for the big night.

- tonight was the day before the murder of the ten dons.

- illumi and kalluto would carry out the murder, while you made sure everything went smoothly, via a small mic attached to his clothes. the entire operation was based on trust, and would therefore be executed like clockwork.

- you had taken the necessary mental images and kept the targets in mind; all that was left was a night at a pre-booked hotel and then it would be go-time.

- you had assumed that the hotel would be high-class, with doormen, perhaps some marble flooring and pillars - it was the zoldycks who were paying, after all, and you knew they had money to spare. 

- “we’re here.” illumi stated blankly, face reflecting in the window. admittedly, he did look a little bit like a koi fish.

- you nudged past him to look out of the window, leaning over to get a good view.

- oh.

- it seemed you had made quite the overestimation. it was a simple, plain building with a few stories. no doormen or extravagance could be sighted.

- you supposed keeping a low profile was important, but the depressing accommodation was somehow making you wearier.

- the two of you didn’t exchange any conversation on the way up to your room, but you were used to that. 

- you and illumi had met around 5 months ago, and most of it had been comfortable silence. you hadn’t expected it to be like that - in all honesty, you had expected him to kill you - but illumi seemed... calm around you. 

- it was probably because you shared such an odd passion with him; the logistics of murder. you assumed it gave him a chance to loosen his harsh demeanour and enjoy himself. the both of you had worked on multiple murders together, focusing on theory and planning, but this was a huge assassination. nevertheless, you knew he could pull it off; illumi was smart, you had to give him that.

- finally, you arrived at your hotel room, sighing from the lengthy stairway winding up to your unnecessarily high room. you assumed it was for safety purposes, but for god’s sake; why did safety have to be so enervating?

- illumi pushed the door open, and you walked in with him. finally, you could catch some rest.

- except, you couldn’t. 

- a singular bed placed in the middle of the room.

- “why.” you thought to yourself tiredly. 

- you stood there silently, waiting for him to say something. 

- then, you remembered that he was illumi. he obviously wouldn’t see anything wrong with the situation. 

- the bastard.

- it didn’t help that he gave you no visible reaction when you stared at him with your face scrunched up expectantly, as if to ask what his plan was.

- “is there a problem, y/n?” illumi asked, his tone flat as usual.

- you took a deep, worn out breath, clearing your throat.

- after a bit, you shook your head. this was strictly professional. illumi wouldn’t do anything, because he was illumi. nothing would happen.this was an important night, where rest and a clear mind were essential. blame it on the fatigue, and nothing else. you were just exhausted. there was nothing else to it. nothing.

- “no. i’m just a little tired.” you dismissed.

- a silence skimmed past.

- “my grandfather... he often tends to be absentminded. occasionally, he forgets to do certain things, or plan them correctly, i suppose. you could say this is a prime example of such.”

- “zeno forgot another goddamn bed, hm?” you laughed nervously.

- illumi stared at you once again, blinking a few times, in a methodical manner, face neutral and robotic. you smiled awkwardly and remembered that he was not one to laugh at jokes. or anything, for that matter. 

- you wondered if he laughed at bloodshed. or maybe hisoka.

- “i’m going to... go to set up my stuff now.” 

- turning your back to illumi, you winced at the uncomfortable air. even after all your time with him, you never learnt to stop trying to lighten the mood. the mood was literally just always unnatural, in some way. that was another one of illumi’s specialties.

- after some time, in which you had finalized tomorrow's plan and each changed into comfortable clothes, you watched illumi tie his hair up from across the room. 

- his hair had always fascinated you. 

- you had always wanted to touch it. honestly, even when you had first met him, apart from his magnetic eyes, you had been drawn to his hair. you imagined it felt like silk sheets, caressing over one’s hands as smoothly as honey. you were glad he grew it out; in fact, upon seeing his teenage photos, you had laughed so hard you ended up getting a nosebleed from hitting your face. illumi had been left in confusion for a while.

- you realized how random you sounded. why were you reminiscing so much? 

- shaking yourself back to your senses, you admired as he artfully twisted his hair into a loose bun, strands of hair cupping his elegant, pale face.

- what a beautiful koi fish.

- most people couldn’t compute that illumi had true, human feelings. after all, it would be hard to believe a man like him felt anything. but, of course, he did, unhealthily so. he channeled all his trauma and hurt into his villainy, and received happiness from his villainy, anger from his villainy and occasionally fear from his villainy.  however, there was one emotion he could never grasp. he hated himself for it, but soon realised he could manipulate his hatred into villainy, too.

- illumi was a man who could manipulate anyone or anything he wished. 

- except himself.

- internally, he had always felt at a loss whenever he confronted his emotions. but, after he had met you, something had changed. as he caught you staring at his hair through the hotel mirror, he couldn’t help but feel something small stir inside of his stomach. not evil, not happiness, not hatred, not anger. perhaps, friendship?

- this tinge of new emotion inside of him initially made him feel uneasy, but that worry morphed into giddiness, a childish high buzzing somewhere in his core.

- eventually, he stood up to face you and suggested going to sleep. you checked the time on the wall clock. 8 in the evening. well, illumi had always been particular. you agreed that rest was essential for tomorrow.

- you hesitantly took the left side, and, upon seeing your choice, illumi followed to lie on the right.

- after a few minutes, you looked back at him, noticing illumi fell asleep abnormally quickly. you furrowed your brow quizzically at the rock-like manner he was in. frankly, he looked like a plank when he slept. you almost laughed, but held it in for his sake. 

- he had a very specific sleep schedule, as did the other zoldycks. he could go to sleep immediately at his own command, and stayed perfectly still as he did so. he woke up at 5 in the morning every single day, without fail, almost like he had some sort of alarm clock planted in his body. 

- looking at him lying there like a block, you smiled softly. illumi was quite the conundrum to you. you often speculated whether he ever got what he deserved; love, affection, anything really. you knew about his past from when he had told you nonchalantly, within a few weeks of your acquaintance. you always hoped he’d find someone to love him, but doubted whether people would bother looking beyond his bleak surface, and into his excellent mind. lost in thought, you found yourself getting drowsier. you also fell asleep generally quickly, limbs aching from the stupid car ride.

- the night passed.

- illumi was the first to wake up at 5am, stoic and in the same place he had fallen asleep in. no surprise there.

- but you. 

- that was the first thing he saw when his eyes opened.

- he did not expect you to be lying on him lazily, snuggling into his body, arm and leg comfortably wrapped around his side. you were breathing lightly, face burrowing onto the ridge of his chest.

- i suppose you didn’t expect to be there either, which he realized, but the point still remained.

- why were on you his chest.

- “y/n.”

- no answer.

- illumi could have pushed you away; in fact, he could have blown you 983 metres away (his personal record). 

- but he didn’t.

- it wasn’t the thought of disturbing your comfort that stopped illumi from hurling you into oblivion. it wasn’t the fact that he explicitly enjoyed it, either. he remembered that the mission was today; if he were to wake you, and you hadn’t slept enough, you wouldn’t be at your upmost performance.

- the murder of the ten dons was his priority, right? yes. it was. there was no doubt about it. that was the only and final reason he wouldn’t wake you. end of discussion. 

- so, illumi stayed there, waiting for you to wake up and get off of him. 30 minutes passed, and he watched you for every single one.

- hard as it was to admit, watching you rise and fall in sync with his chest made the spark of emotion in his core grow fervently. what had that foreign feeling been? yesterday, he had settled at friendship, but now he wasn’t so sure.

- you looked so peaceful while you slept. less confusing. he remembered the time you had accidentally complimented his hair when the two of you had first met. he had found that amusing. he remembered the time you got a nosebleed from hitting your face too hard - it was after laughing at his teenage pictures, which perplexed him greatly. he remembered the times you two had sat together, working and theorizing on missions, accidentally meeting eyes or brushing hands. one time, you had dipped one of his pins in ink and scratched his name on some paper “for fun”. you had handed it to him and, for some unknown reason, the scrap was still tucked safely in his wallet. your unrivaled intelligence, your idiotic sense of humour, your smile, your lack of common sense, your twinkling eyes that so ironically contrasted his, everything. everything crossed his mind while he lay there.

- illumi found it strange how people remembered the oddest things at the oddest times. 

- why did he think of that now, as you were sleeping? even worse, on the day of a meticulously planned assassination. why couldn’t he manipulate his emotions to stop fluctuating around you so much?

- it all frustrated him.

- why had he let you call him by “illumi” so quickly? mr zoldyck would have been fine. and why had he been so lenient with your antics? no one else got to touch his pins. why did he feel like keeping you on his chest forever, and keeping you safe? most importantly, why was he thinking about you so much?

- his contemplation came to a halt when he heard you stir a little in your sleep.

-  finally, you’d wake up and he could forget about this entire problem.

- he watched you, expecting you to get up soon.

- you began shuffling around, brushing against his chest, and soon your eyes fluttered open, hazy and glazed over. it almost seemed like you were still in a dream, in some sort of half-sleep.

- “huh?” you whispered quietly, still lying on illumi. you looked up lazily, meeting eyes with him.

- “oh... i get it...” you hummed quietly, falling back onto his chest.

- he furrowed his brows.

- “why are you here?” you hugged him from the side, softly laughing at your ridiculous dream. he tensed up at you embracing him, but soon relaxed after realizing what was going on.

- illumi looked at you, one eyebrow raised. did you... think you were dreaming?

- to be honest, he found it kind of entertaining, the way you were fawning over him. if he let you stay there, he could figure out a lot of things about his newly found emotion. it could be worth it. just not today.

- illumi came back to his senses fairly quickly; you were obviously awake now, so why couldn’t you get off of him already?

- “y/n.”

- “mmm? what? so serious all the damn timeee, illum-” 

- “you aren’t dreaming. get off.”

- SHIT

- SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT

- you jolted off him immediately, staring down at illumi zoldyck. 

- the real illumi zoldyck.

- oh my god what. what. what. what.

- every nerve in your body began to panic, and, in the stress of trying to find the correct words to say, you just ended up making some sort of incomputable “aaaahhh” noise and jumping off the bed.

-  illumi had finally gotten up and was now staring concernedly at you.

- an awkward pause.

- “let me just start by saying i did not-”

- “y/n. we have more pressing priorities for today. i don’t care.”

- illumi zoldyck had lied. even to himself. he did care. and so what if he ignored it until it festered so intensely inside of him he couldn’t do anything but tell you? he cared about you. and he knew it.

- “ok. you’re right. you’re right! illumi. one question. was i like that the whole night?”

- “i don’t know. i woke up at 5 and you were there.”

- you looked at the clock. it was 6am? what had he been doing for an hour? you opened your mouth to ask but closed it soon after. you recalled your thoughts about illumi growing up void of affection, or love, or appreciation. 

- some questions were best left unanswered.

- “how long was i... mumbling like that?”

- “a few minutes.”

- you gulped. there were a few things you had to come to terms with. shutting your eyes firmly, you apologised profusely, annoyed at yourself.

- “y/n. i don’t care.” he lied once again.

- “you’re right!” you rambled - “the ten dons are today! it doesn’t matter what i said... none of it matters, we can both just forget it!”

- you sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than anyone.

- “so all we need to do is go over the plan one last time, get kalluto, and then we’ll carry it out, and soon enou-”

- “stop it. you’re wasting time. just go and get ready.”

- you sighed and smiled weakly. on the inside, you were sure your soul had died a little.

- while you left to change, overcome by embarrassment, illumi lingered by the bed for a few seconds. he tried to push down whatever he was currently feeling, but it was no use. the feeling in his core had risen up to his throat, a burst of something waiting to leave his lips. 

- for the first time in a while, illumi zoldyck smiled. not at murder, or at power, or fulfillment, or achievement, or even villainy.

- illumi zoldyck had smiled at the thought of you.

- let’s just say illumi had trouble focusing on his mission. 

i am honestly so fucking sorry you had to read that whole thing. the way i am literally in love with illumi zoldyck and ended up writing 2857 words bye bye bye i’m so sorry!!! PLZ what?? anyways,, i feel like i heavily underwrote hisoka now, since i did such a prologue thing for this! honestly i feel like this one came out a little boring, im sorry again AAAAA just agh; chrollo should b coming when i have time but i have exams rn so idkkkk hh

either way, likes or reblogs or whatever are super appreciated, but don’t feel forced to or anything! either way, i feel like no one’s gonna see this with my reach LMAOO but anyways thank you for reading, if you made it here! feedback and tips for writing on here are always helpful :)

[moxfirefly]

Good afternoon, this has been in the works for a while now and I finally got around to finishing it and being pretty content of it (this is gonna go up on AO3 soon along with the others that aren’t request) but I wanted to post it here first. Enjoy!

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

“Wish you were here right now

All of the things I'd do”

Gaming was always an escape.

From childhood to adulthood. There was some gaming equipment in your hands, controls, handhelds, keyboards and so on. There was just something calming about entering a fantasy world and immersing yourself in scenery and stories that made you stray from bad days and long nights.

For Donatello it was the same.

On one of his many supply scavenges Splinter had found a dumpster near a toy store that was going out of business. It was a memorable haul for them. What they expected to be routine things mixed with some type of groceries had turned into literal Christmas in July. Stuffed animals, board games, action figures and even a few gaming consoles with some cartridges and cd’s. Noticeably they were considered damaged or improperly manufactured, but they didn’t care and for Donnie he had spent a good week and a half fixing up the Nintendo and Play Station 2 consoles back into working conditions.

That alone had been plenty for him but nevertheless Mikey being so excited about playing wanted him to join him. They had played for hours and each disc or cartridge they tried out held a new story, a new set of controls to learn, new visuals and such. He was immediately hooked.

When he had gotten the first parts to start building a PC from scratch he knew there would be another world of possibilities for games.

Now gaming is a leisure for Donnie. Something he does for enjoyment and an escape when his projects become too much. The world of online gaming allowed him to also explore the possibilities of chatting with others though, the humans they were not allowed to see or speak to (with the exception of their Hogosha) but needless to say it wasn’t like Donnie broadcasted his identity and whereabouts. More so these people only came to game and speak game.

Donnie absolutely does detest the unnecessary sexism that gaming brings. Many a time he had read on chats or heard on his head set such derogatory comments thrown at female players. Never the one to stand such misogynistic behavior (he was raised better and had heard enough horror stories from April) he always shot that shit down quickly. Given his status as being far above his gaming peers he had developed respect and none of them ever shot back at him.

That’s how he runs into you.

On the opposing team nonetheless.

Once your female voice ran through the ears of the group he had been stuck in, the comments began to rain down. Some colorful, some lazy and some downright disgusting. Donnie had had enough and with some of his more illegal methods, had managed to push out the players in his party and send the audio recording to the email of the developers.

On exceptionally petty days he did far worse.

You had been stunned, wondering why the gang of immature boys had suddenly disappeared. Only one of them remained with the gamer tag specifying ‘Don_DuzMachines’ you couldn’t help but giggle at it.

You had asked if the sudden disappearance had been a weird glitch and if Don (as you assumed you should call him) had anything to do about it.

“Let’s just say I’ve got my ways” His soft voice rang through your headset.

“Well it’s hardly the first time I’ve had a gang of prepubescent boys tell me to suck their dicks” You started to move away in the map but stopped abruptly.

“Hey do you wanna play something else?” You asked tentatively. “Figured the least I can do is thank you” Donnie sat back pensively, well there was no harm in that now was there?

And so it started innocently.

Co-op games even the occasional match against one another. Each game you two always spoke through your headsets. Mostly banter about strategy or directions for who to do what or the occasional friendly jabs. You hadn’t revealed much that wasn’t the nickname you used as your gamer tag, and well Don had basically done the same.

That is until you decide to poke a little into his life. “You go to college?” You had asked, fingers gliding over the keyboard as you both partook in a raid. Donnie hadn’t expected such a question and he didn’t necessarily want to divulge much, he opted for a more ambiguous response. “I do my own studying, sort of like home schooling if you will?” Well he wasn’t wrong, Splinter had been both father and teacher to them, Donnie had just excelled more quickly and soon enough he was teaching his brothers on the academic side.

“You broke too, huh? Trust me it’s not worth the insane debt you’ll develop in six years that’ll take forty years to pay off” You chuckled with a hint of bitterness, Donnie couldn’t help but laugh and snort.

“That’s cute” You said sincerely. Donnie smiled, heat creeping up his neck.

How innocent things had been at the start.

For six months the two of you divulged little to no information. You never asked to video chat and Donnie never asked for your socials. It had just been a mutual agreement to keep the mystery that just wasn’t verbalized. Maybe it was for the better, because surely what had began as a gaming buddies situation had escalated to, well Donnie couldn’t really explain.

The first instance the two of you had been stuck on a map solving intricate puzzles. It was one of the more relaxed games the two of your partook in together when you didn’t want to deal with other players in a lobby.

“Dating apps are a nightmare, they’re only worth it for getting dumb funny stories” You had been playing but also checking some of the matches you’ve gotten on a site. Donnie swallowed, why did that settle so oddly in his stomach?

“Well any funny ones you’d like to share?” Don asked curiously hoping he wasn’t over stepping any boundaries. “One guy wanted me to cover my feet in marmalade, I really almost hit fuck it and did it” You couldn’t help but smile when Don choked, coughed and bursted out laughing.

“What kink is that even related to? I mean I know people enjoy feet but marmalade?” He was bewildered. “Come on Don don’t kink shame the poor guy, who are you to police his eclectic culinary desires?” Now the two of you couldn’t help but burst into another fit of laughter. Both your avatars were idle standing, the game somewhat abandoned in favor for the conversation.

“Hey I’m not kink shaming, we all have our weird kinks” Donnie smiled sitting back on his swivel chair. You clicked out of the dating site, chin resting on your hand. “Are we finally having this conversation? Cause I love this shit, it’s my bread and butter” You sat back in your gaming chair, tucking your knees.

Donnie felt so shy but the barrier of mistery the two of you had built urged him on. He was curious, like stupid curious what you looked like and while he had everything to figure out exactly where you were, it wasn’t morally correct for him. So why not just indulge in the conversation?

“Well it’s not feet, sorry to disappoint” He heard you laugh, an infectious sound he had grown to enjoy so much. “Feet are so passé anyways, what about bondage?” You spun slowly in your chair, the sounds of Don adjusting and clicking on the keyboard ringing in your ears.

“Bondage is a go, especially sensory deprivation” He was checking some documents April had forwarded to him in regards to a case they were dealing with, but he could multitask. You made an approving noise, nodding while taking a sip of your drink. “Into that D/s stuff?” You asked wanting to see what else he might like.

“Well yeah, but I do enjoy more um... Fem Dom stuff” He finished up the email he wrote out for April and hit send. “A man with taste, not something we get often” You chuckled but decided to add. “I wouldn’t mind having a guy submit to me” You bit the inside of your cheek a little shy suddenly.

Something about that statement made heat spread south for Donnie. The concept of being dominated? By a woman? He peaked a look behind him, pushing one side of his headset down to hear what his brothers might be up to but he heard only music and chatting voices.

“What’s your favorite thing?” He inquired almost too softly.

“Erotic ASMR” There was no trace of embarrassment in your voice and that somehow made Donnie hot.

“Maybe we frequent the same sites for that” Don boldly threw out. You made an approving face before sitting forward and typing on your keyboard. A beat or two later Donnie saw an email notification from you on one of his many burner emails. He opened it finding links to audios from various sites all catered to erotic audios. Donnie whistled, this was a gold mine and true to his predictions you did indeed have some of his favorite sites to peruse.

“It’s not just male audios by the way, there’s women too” You sat back once again, nervously playing with your hair. “Thanks... Well I do like hearing both” Donnie confessed, voice avoiding a stutter.

You grinned. Oh he was even more fun that you could’ve expected.

Curiously enough that had been the tamest experience into yours and Donnie’s sex talks. Because it hadn’t really stopped at that, they progressively escalated little by little. Fave kinks had turned to fave sites, fave sites had turned into fave videos. Donnie never pictured he’d share his hidden folder with a stranger no less.

You nor Donnie could really say how the two of you had ended up one late night, with yet another abandoned game, talking about weird but satisfying cyber sex experiences. Some of your stories had been on the more comical side but a few had riled Donnie up to the point that he couldn’t ignore it. There was a shift in your voice as well, an allure that enticed him.

“Can I be honest?” You licked your suddenly dry lips. Donnie tensed momentarily, not sure what to expect. “Of course, please” You squeezed your thighs together, ‘please’ shouldn’t sound so good coming out of his mouth. You trace lazy circles on your thighs, something pushed you. “I’m kinda turned on by this...by talking to you about all this stuff” Maybe this was overstepping it, surely there was nothing wrong between two adult friends discussing such matters.

There was no need to tell Don that you had yearned to put a face to the name. But his hesitance spoke of insecurities and you could understand that.

“I am too...” Donnie looked up at what he called a ceiling in his home, the darkness of the sewer system and concrete. He’d never have a chance with you, it was a deeply rooted desire for intimacy and if virtually he could obtain it then so be it.

For all your boldness you felt a wave of bashfulness hit, crashed around your self confidence. Then Donnie steps up and you feel your toes curl in excitement. “Do you want to have a better experience?” Donnie runs both hands down his face, who was he to provide better experiences, he’d never even physically had a partner. The slow sigh that escapes your throat is comforting static in his headset. “Yeah, yeah I really do actually” You feel a smile etch itself on your lips.

“You can call me Donnie” It’s the closest to his name, and truthfully he really wants to hear you say it.

“Y/N,” You say to which Donnie makes an approving noise, he finds your name to be pretty. He rolls it in his mouth, testing the syllables, he can envision moaning it, well he wants to moan it if he can be completely honest. He wants to put a face to that name but he quickly pushes the thought out. There’s a pregnant pause where neither of you engage or make the first attempt. Not wanting to let this mood flee, Donnie swallows and closes his eyes. The hum of the abandoned game grounding him.

“Say my name again” It’s not a forceful demand, all the contrary he wants to hear the pitch in your voice when you say it, he wants to picture how each tone would variate depending on what he would do or say. “Donnie...” You smile to yourself when you say it, a hint of desire nestled in it and Don notices that and wants more of it.

There’s a lengthy sigh from your behalf, hands wandering up your thighs towards your chest. “I’d like to be there right now, would like to say it against your lips” Your bold confessions makes Donnie’s pulse quicken. He runs a ghosting touch up his plastron, the vision of a delicate hand doing it. The imaginary weight of you on his lap grinding down on his hard member. Donnie grips himself through his shorts a soft groan escaping his parted lips.

“Want you to kiss me” He swallows dryly, the approving noise you make pushing him forward. “Feel your lips all over, feel your mouth around me...” He lifts his hips, hand cupping himself and the small hitch in your breath is a sound he wants permanently recorded in his brain.

“God are you big? I bet you are” You kneed your breast, thumb and forefinger pinching the sensitive nubs until they’re perked. Donnie smirks to himself, freeing his aching member and looking down at himself. Mutant genes aside he feels somewhat shamefully proud of his cock, he wonders if you would like it... deeply buried within you. “Yeah I am, I think you can take it something tells me” You catch that teasing tone and the urge to swallow him whole and make him see stars is too much.

Your hand finds its way into your underwear, the warm wetness making you moan as you tease your middle finger between the lips to find your sensitive nub there. You bite back another lengthy moan but recover enough to breathlessly say, “oh fuck, Donnie” and that very sound makes him shiver. Never did he think he’d hear something so temptingly good, said with such sincerity. God the things he would do to smell your arousal right now, to taste the wetness. “Push two fingers in slowly” Donnie almost pleas, his voice shakey, hand pumping his cock at a steady pace. You do as he wishes, your gutted moan making more precum gather at the tip of his member.

“God-shit- you sound so good, wish you were riding my big dick right now” He wants to chastise himself for saying something like that, but he can’t deny that statement shakes something in you. He can hear it, the sound of your fingers mixed with a continuously rising string of moans. “Ohmygod” Words tumble out strewn together by your pleasure. “Donnie please, please fuck me harder” That alone makes him sit up and push forwards, one hand on his desk as the other works himself up in upward twisting strokes.

Donnie can’t erase the idea of slamming into you right here on his desk, maybe bent over, maybe you’ll let him cum on your face...

He pushes the idea away, he can’t envision your face now, not right now, not when your moans have you sounding this deliciously in need. You’re plunging two fingers into your core as your free hand runs firm circles around your clit. “Christ Donnie you sound so good baby” You moan, perspiration covering your body and Donnie can only groan his approval.

There’s a few minutes where it’s just the two of you lost in your own pleasure together. The constant chants of ‘fuck’ and ‘god’ and ‘yes’ mixed between the two of you. “Say it... again” Donnie groans out, hand quickening, briefly gathering some saliva and letting it fall on his hard member for better traction. “Don-oh, Donnie cum in me!” You’re so far gone, not caring what comes out of your mouth. The wet sounds in your head set and a vibration you figured could be static mixed with his groans was all you heard.

Donnie’s hips twitch, feels that request swim inside of his brain and the image of burying himself as deeply as you could take is all he needs. Just as your moans rise in crescendo he feels the first twitch and relief of his orgasm overtake him. He’s never felt it hit him this hard it knocks the wind out of him, each rope shooting out onto his hand and floor. In his minds eye though, it’s your suffocating heat taking it, milking him until he’s a shivering mess. It plays perfectly like a movie, he swears he can even feel your lips at his neck and arms holding him tight.

Your sounds are enough to keep him stroking, the way your voice pitched up with the sound of his name entwined, forever recorded in his brain. Your entire body tensed to the point of uncomfortable but it was impossible to stop abruptly when he sounded so lost in you. Your leg shakes and stiffens and it takes every inch of control to not become liquid and slip away into comforting bliss.

Eventually the sounds of heavy breathing slowly but surely settling are the only things the two of you can hear in your ears. There’s a mess, for you and for him. The understanding of things transpired crossing each of you two’s brains. Should you speak first? Should he?

“Um, you with me?” You settle, skin sweaty and mouth dry. There’s movement on the other line, a quiet cuss here and there and you smile. “Yeah, sorry just... made a mess” His voice has that sheepish tone and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Great thing about being a girl, we can conceal the evidence better” You stretch your aching legs enjoying each joint pop. “The female anatomy never seizes to amaze me, trust me” Donnie leans back in his chair, napkin cleaning any other soiled spot.

The silence was somewhat comfortable, the buzzing of good chemicals slowly settling.

“Was this okay?” He asked, hesitant tone in your ears.

“More than okay if you ask me” You kept it light not wanting him to feel odd or even ashamed.

You ventured on slowly, forming the question in your brain and bouncing it back and forward with a swallow. “If, and I mean if you want to, we can maybe do this from time to time” You worried a thumbnail between your teeth. Donnie’s gaze watching the idle screen of the abandoned game, he thought hard but briefly.

“I... yeah I would” He smiles to himself, even if the nagging thought that this might not last clutches the back of his mind. Why ruin a good thing? This was good more than good and you suggested to continue.

He doesn’t want to preoccupy his brain with scenarios, or if that dreaded ‘let’s meet’ sentence decides to cross your lips. If this is the inch of intimacy he gets to have and it’s with you, who he has grown so fond of, then he’s selfishly taking that inch and guarding it with his life.

Mutely you both remain on the line, no words spoken from the agreement, just simply enjoying that the two of you were present.

Even if not physically.

[dreamerstreamer]

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Pairing: Ranboo & gn!reader (platonic)

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] Ranboo’s memory may not be the best, but that doesn’t mean he’s not your best friend. Sometimes, you just wish he remembered to do to some things—like not get stuck in the rain.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: at last, some appreciation for my favourite enderman! let’s give this awkward, polite, tall child some love :) i tried a different writing approach to writing this, so please pardon the fact that there’s less dialogue in this one.

You let out a small gasp as your eyes scanned the page in front of you, your toes curling in your shoes as you swallowed. Your fingers curled a little tighter around the spine of the book. You could not believe that just happened—they couldn’t just throw your favourite character into prison like that!

Chewing on your bottom lip, you sank back against the bench seat, you huffed as you set your book down face-up on your lap. Whatever. He’ll probably just break out, anyways.

Leaning back slightly, you stretched your arms out above you with a soft groan, your bones cracking with a satisfying pop. Relaxing once more, you blinked at the space around you while a soft breeze caressed the side of your face. It was a beautiful day out, but Ghostbur had told you earlier that it was probably going to rain, soon.

“How can you tell?” you had asked him once.

He had shrugged at you, humming aloud with a thoughtful look. “The sky just seems a little sad, don’t you think?”

You had glanced up at the clear, boundless blue expanse lying above you, your lips curling into a small frown. “I dunno. Looks pretty happy to me.”

“That’s the thing,” Ghostbur had said, flashing you that soft, ghostly smile of his. “It may look happy, but there’s more than what meets the eye.”

While you supposed he had a point, you still didn’t quite understand how he could tell it was going to rain. It must be me his ghostly senses, you thought to yourself, swinging legs back and forth on the bench, your heels dragging along the slightly dewy grass. That, or maybe he’s officially lost it. You wrinkled your nose. Can ghosts even go crazy? Is that a thing?

You shook your head. Crazy or not, Ghostbur was never wrong when he said it was going to rain—you weren’t about to start doubting him, now.

Above you, the sky was still as clear as ever, the sun cresting high above you as its warm rays shone down on you. Just how long had you just spent reading? It felt like you hadn’t talked to anyone in ages, now.

Just then, something moved in the corner of your eye, and you turned your head, blinking.

A head of black and white hair bobbed along the distance, the figure slowly growing closer and closer until you could clearly make out the face attached to it. The moment you did, a wicked smile shot across your face, and you opened your mouth.

“Hey, Ranboob.”

Ranboo froze at the sound of your voice, raising his head only for a look of horror to pass through his eyes as realization sunk in. “Not you, too.” Exasperation tinged his voice as his eyebrows curved downward. “Have you been talking to Tommy, again?”

You simpered with a coy gleam in your eye, tracing a finger over the edge of a page. “Maybe.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, a long sigh fell from his lips. He strode up to you, stopping a few feet away to stare you down. “I came out here to have a good time,” he said lowly, “and I’m feeling very attacked, right now.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, your smile widening slightly. “Quoting stale memes now, are we?”

He lifted his chin at you, his expression firm. “Stale or not, it’s fitting for my current situation.”

You blinked at him, then shrugged. “Fair enough.” Picking up your bookmark from its spot on your lap, you swiftly slid it in between the pages of your book, letting the pages fall shut with a satisfying clap. “So,” you said, peering up at him, “what are you up to, right now?”

“Well, I kind of wanted to go exploring for a while. You know, see some new sights, get a break from—” He shivered. “—politics.”

A laugh bubbled out of your throat, and you caught the way his lips curled up at the sound. “A 2-in-1 deal then, huh? Sounds good to me.” You leaned back, your eyes pointing up at the sky above. “Ghostbur said it was going to rain, though.” Furrowing your brows, you shot him a worried look. “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?”

He jutted a thumb over his shoulder, rocking back and forth on his heels with a nod. “I’m heading home to grab my helmet, actually.” When you narrowed your eyes at him, he waved a hand at you. “Don’t worry—I’ll be safe, I swear.”

You cocked your head at him, a hopeful look flickering across your face. “But we’re still baking potatoes later, right? At four o’clock?”

He nodded, an earnest smile tugging at his lips. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You grinned at him, wide and giddy as you lifted one hand in a wave. With the other, you opened your book once more, tugging the bookmark out and placing it on the space beside you. “Awesome. Take care, now.”

Turning on his heel, he waved over his shoulder, sending you a reassuring grin. “Will do.”

Ranboo was a few yards away when your eyes widened, a sudden thought barreling into you. Slamming your book shut, you shot to your feet, whipping around with a hand cupped around your mouth. “And do not forget,” you shouted, your voice ringing across the air, “you hear me?”

Stopping in his tracks, Ranboo turned, a smile stretched across his face as he called back, “Loud and clear!”

With a relieved sigh, you lowered your arm, watching as he darted down the path toward his house. You sat down on the bench with a hum, casting your gaze down at your book only to freeze. Then, you let out a long groan.

You forgot to put your bookmark back.

Grumbling quietly to yourself, you pulled back the cover, scouring the pages with a glower as your bookmark stared back at you tauntingly.

At least you had something to look forward to this afternoon.

Ranboo strolled through his house with a soft hum, unlocking chests here and there to dig around and stuff things into his pockets. Food, check. Sword, check. Map, check. He blinked, tapping his foot. Am I missing anything?

He paused for a long moment, blinking down at the items lying in front of him before snapping his fingers, letting out a quick, “Aha!” Scrambling to his feet, he rushed to the other side of the room, leaning up against the wall to pluck the clock out of its frame. How could he not remember to bring a clock? After all, he had to be back in time to bake potatoes with you.

Slipping the clock into his pocket with a quiet hum, he turned back to the table where he had laid everything out. Clock, check. Is that everything? He squinted for a moment, staring at the open chest pressed up against the wall as the wheels in his head slowly turned.

A moment passed, then two.

He felt like he was forgetting something.

Didn’t you tell him something—reminded him of something? He wrinkled his brow, staring long and hard at the top of shoes. What could it possibly be? He was pretty sure it was something along the lines of... something, something... sky?

Ranboo lifted his head, his eyes trailing over to the window with confusion swimming through his eyes. Just outside, the sky was bright and vibrant, not a single cloud to be seen. There hadn’t been such a clear day in weeks, now.

You must have just said something about how nice the weather was, today—he was sure of it.

Moving quickly and surely, Ranboo slipped his belongings into his pockets, making sure to strap the sword to his back before stepping outside, a soft breeze immediately caressing the side of his face.  He took in a deep breath, feeling the cool summer air fill his lungs. With sunlight dancing on his cheeks, he felt his lips quirk up into a small smile.

It was time to explore.

Ranboo gazed up at the towering trees with a soft gasp, shielding his eyes from the dappled sunlight flitting across his face with his hand. People said he was abnormally tall, but when he was surrounded by trees as big as this, he just couldn’t believe that to be true.

Ducking under a low hanging branch, he let out a whistle as he stepped into a sudden clearing, a short stump lying in the center. The sunlight almost seemed to shine a spotlight atop the cut wood, and he found himself immediately walking up to it and sitting down. With one hand, he lifted his sword from his back and tossed it onto the ground. With the other, he pulled out a carrot from his pocket and took a bite, glancing around him with curious eyes.

He had never even known that there was a spruce forest in this area. Maybe he should go exploring more often instead of spending so much time thinking about countries and borders and allegiances and—

A shiver ran down his spine, and Ranboo shook his head. Now was not the time to think about all that.

For a few minutes, Ranboo simply sat and chewed, stretching out his legs. He watched as a pair of foxes darted between the trees, their orange, bushy tails swishing behind them as they ran off into the bushes. He smiled at the sight, finishing his carrot. He had to tell Fundy about them later.

All of a sudden, something wet dropped onto the bridge of his nose, and he let out a sharp yelp while leaning back. He slammed a hand over his face, not quite realizing how far he had leaned back before he was suddenly lying face first on the ground, crashing into the earth. Letting out a groan, he lifted his head, rubbing at his nose.

The skin burned where he touched it like a hot ache, and Ranboo scrunched his face. What in the world was that? Tilting his head back to look up, his breath hitched in his throat at the sight that met his eyes.

The once clear, blue sky was now overcast with dark, stormy clouds, their hazy appearance overshadowing their softness.

He squinted for a moment, desperation stirring in his veins. It wasn’t raining, was it? It couldn’t be. You would have told him if it was going to rai—

Ranboo froze, then let out a long sigh. “I,” he said aloud to himself, his low voice ringing out in the quiet forest, “am an idiot.”

You did tell him, didn’t you? That must have been what he had forgotten—that, and his helmet.

He paused again, furrowing his brow. Wait, no. There was something else too, something else he was forgetting.

With a huff, he pushed himself onto its feet, screwing his eyes shut as he pressed a hand to his temple and ran through the jumbled mess of memories in his head. He remembered walking down the prime path and seeing you on the bench... you had called him Ranboob, asked where he was going, and...

His eyes flew open, a low, sinking feeling settling in his gut.

Potatoes. He was supposed to bake potatoes with you at four.

Without even an inkling of hesitation, Ranboo shoved his hand into his pocket, frantically fishing around for a moment before pulling out his clock, his eyes widening.

It was four eleven.

You were so going to kill him.

All of a sudden, another wet droplet landed on the top of his head, and Ranboo let out a quiet shriek, feeling his scalp grow hot with the same, uncomfortably familiar burning sensation as earlier. Whipping around, Ranboo swept his eyes across the clearing. He wasn’t going to make it back in time now, at least not without possibly dying. For now, he had to find something—anything—to hide under.

Something burned against his backside, and Ranboo didn’t need to turn around to know what it was, far too busy turning this way and that. But no matter where he looked, all he could see were tall, looming spruce trees, there branches too spaced out separated to serve as even remotely sufficient shelter.

Just then, another raindrop splashed onto his shoulder. Then another fell on his arm. Then another dropped onto his foot.

With each passing second, the rain grew heavier and heavier, more and more droplets landing on him and leaving his body aching all over. Ranboo gritted his teeth, his chest heaving with wracking, wet breaths. Choking back a pained cry, his hand desperately clutched at the front of his now damp and soggy shirt.

He was so, so screwed.

You stared at the empty baking tray sitting on your kitchen counter, your eyes darting back and forth between it and the clock on your wall. After a few moments, you let out a groan, smacking your head against the counter.

It was four fifteen.

Ranboo was late.

Admittedly, it was only by fifteen minutes, but late was late.

You turned your head so that your cheek was smushed against the counter, the coolness seeping into your skin as you glared at the sack of potatoes sitting on the opposite side of the kitchen. Ranboo was a punctual guy—he was almost never late, and if he was, it was never by a landslide, or anything.

Lifting your head, you nodded to yourself, feeling yourself fill with resolve. Yes, that was it—he was surely going to show up soon! In the meantime, you could always just read some more of your book.

Abandoning your baking, you were soon curled up on your couch once more, your book clutched between your fingers as you drank in the rest of the story. You were right—your favourite character did break out of prison.

Although you were engrossed in your novel, you slowly found your eyes returning to the clock every few minutes, anxiety gnawing away at you. Everything’s fine, you reasoned with yourself, flipping to the next page with a nervous glance. Ranboo’ll turn up soon.

But soon enough, twenty minutes passed with no sign of Ranboo.

Then thirty.

Then forty.

By the time an hour had gone by, you found yourself staring out the window, your lips pursed and your eyebrows furrowed in worry. The rain ran down along the glass panes like tiny rivers, and you could hear it pattering against your roof. Beside you, your book lay abandoned facedown on the couch. Is he okay? you wondered, clenching your jaw. Did something happen?

You didn’t let yourself think about it for a moment longer, shutting your book and setting it onto the coffee table before getting to your feet, your eyes narrowed. If Ranboo wasn’t going to come to you, it looked like you were simply going to have to get him yourself.

It only took you a few moments to grab your jacket from its spot on the hanger and tug it on, your fingers deftly buttoning the front while you muttered to yourself. “He probably forgot we were hanging out, didn’t he?”

Rolling your eyes to yourself, you walked up to your front door, your hand reaching for the handle when you paused. A grimace stretched across your face, and your gaze shifted toward the coffee table.

You forgot your bookmark, again.

You stared at your closed book for a moment longer, then scoffed, twisting the door open. Who cared about some book when your best friend was missing? You had your priorities straight.

Flipping your hood over your head, you rushed down the path, splashing past puddles and damp grass as you raced toward Ranboo’s house, grumbling. Keeping you waiting for half an hour was one thing, but two? This called for some serious retribution.

When you arrived, you didn’t bother to knock before pushing the front door open, your mouth already open in a shout. “Ranboo?” you cried, your eyes taking in the room. “Are you there?”

There was a beat of silence, then you frowned. Now he’s ignoring me? Rude.

Slipping off your shoes, you stepped inside, ducking your head around as you searched for him. But it was only after a few moments that it was obvious that he wasn’t home, and you were alone. Blinking, you stared at the open chest near the wall and the empty frame attached to the space above the door.

Is he... still outside? you thought carefully. Your bit your lip, crossing your arms over your chest. There’s no way. I specifically told him that it was going to rain today. You paused, your frown deepening. Unless...

Stifling a sigh, you slowly turned until your eyes landing on the armour stand sitting in the corner of his room. Your jaw dropped.

He forgot his helmet.

You didn’t even have to think about it before you were ripping the helmet off the stand and diving for Ranboo’s open chest, immediately pulling out a handful of regeneration potions and stuffing them into your pockets. Maybe this was considered stealing, but in that moment, you couldn’t care less.

“He is so dumb,” you whined in a panicked tone, pulling your shoes back on and kicking down the door. “I cannot believe him.”

In a flash, you were sprinting down the hill that led outside L’Manburg, Ranboo’s helmet bouncing along at your side. He said he was going exploring, you remembered, panting to yourself as you tried not to slip on the wet ground, so he must be somewhere in the wilderness.

You were about to turn the corner when a figure came into sight from the side, blond locks bobbing along the side of your vision. At the sound of footsteps, Tommy lifted his head, sending you a bright grin as he waved. “Hey, [Y/N]!” His eyes fell down to your hand, and his eyebrows knit together. “Is that Ranboo’s helme—”

“No time to explain!” you shouted, barreling past him without even a second glance.

Tommy made a face as you passed, his cerulean eyes following after you. “Wait, what the f—”

But by then, you were already long gone, leaving Tommy behind to swim in a puddle of confusion and unanswered questions.

Ranboo huddled further against the tree trunk, his back digging into the bark as he wrapped his arms tighter around himself where he sat. Above him, the branches rustled, and a raindrop whizzed past his face, sliding down the side of his arm. Bristling, he let out a small whimper, his nails digging into his palms.

This was probably the most pathetic situation he’d ever been stuck in.

He could feel the back of his eyes sting with unshed tears, and he sucked in a shaky breath. He half-wanted to cry, but he knew he couldn’t let that happen. He could already imagine the way his cheeks would burn at the feeling of his tears flowing down his face. Crying would only make everything even worse than it already was.

To think that of all the days he could forget something you said, it just had to be today. God, just how bad of a friend was he to get stuck in the rain even after you told him to bring his helmet, let alone forget about hanging out with you?

He buried his face into his knees, squeezing his eyes shut with a ragged breath. He really was awful.

Suddenly, a distant voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Ranboo?”

He whipped his head up at the sound of his name, eyes wide as he scanned the clearing. “[Y/N]?” he shouted.

Just then, you burst through the bushes, stumbling forward. Before you could stop yourself, you found your shoe catching on the tree stump he had been sitting on earlier, and he winced as you toppled headfirst into the ground with a crash.

“A-Are you okay?” he asked, concern etched onto his features.

You quickly pulled yourself up from the ground, completely ignoring the mud staining your pants. “I should be the one asking you that,” you said in a blur, rushing over to him with a focused gaze.

Ranboo could only gape at you with a stunned look as you crouched down in front of him. “How—how did you even find me?” he sputtered, his head still reeling at the sight of you. “This forest is hundreds of blocks away.”

You deadpanned at him. “Lots, and lots, and lots of running.” You gestured to your dirty shoes, soaked with rain and mud all over. “My feet are kind of killing me, right now.”

He winced, his voice growing quiet. “I’m sorr—”

You raised a hand. “Ah, ah, ah. This comes first.” Pulling his helmet out from behind you, you immediately slammed it atop his head, easily making sure it was securely attached to his skull. “Also,” you added, burying a hand into your coat pocket, “drink this.”

Without missing a beat, you pulled out a potion of regeneration and shoved it toward him. As his hand clasped around the glass bottle, Ranboo opened his mouth, only to close it at the stern look you gave him. Swallowing, he removed the cork and lifted the potion to his lips, the sweet liquid pouring down his throat. In an instant, the burning of his skin subsided, and he felt his shoulders relax.

At his calm expression, your eyes finally softened, and you nearly sagged against him in relief. “Feeling any better?”

Capping the empty bottle, he let it drop to the damp grass as he nodded, but something sad flickered across his gaze. “Yeah, but...”

The words were flying out of your mouth in a flurry, and you already reaching for your pockets again. “Did you still need anything?” You pulled out another potion. “I, um, didn’t bring a lot of stuff with m—”

Ranboo shook his head, and you fell silent. “No, no, it’s not that, it’s just...” He paused, and sucked in a deep breath, his voice coming out fragile and cracked. “I’m really sorry, [Y/N].” He curled his legs closer to his chest, and he suddenly looked very, very small as his words came out in a mess of choked out syllables. “I forgot we were going to hang out and I just couldn’t remember and then it was raining which I also forgot you told me about and now you must hate m—”

Before he knew it, your arms were wrapped around him, your head pressed against his as you softly crooned. “Shh, Ranboo, stop. I’m here, okay? And I would never hate you for something like that.” You patted your hand against his sopping back, and felt him melt into your touch. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

He pulled away from you, his lips parted in surprise. “Really?”

You smiled, sincere and true. “Really.”

Just as a slow, shaky smile spread across his lips, you suddenly realized how quiet it was. Turning, you peeked up at the sky once more, your eyebrows raising at the sight of a clear, blue sky. The rain had finally stopped.

“Well,” you said, your smile widening, “would you look at that.” Then, you blinked, and frowned down at your dirty shoes. “Dang. That means I got all muddy for nothing.” You saw Ranboo wince again, but you merely shrugged, getting back onto your feet. “Oh, well. Enough of that. Let’s get going, instead.”

For a moment, Ranboo simply stared at you as you dusted off your front, a soft, affectionate warmth filling his chest. Then, he spoke. “Thank you for coming to get me,” he said so softly you almost missed it. “I really am sorry.”

You paused, then smiled at him again. “And I really do forgive you.” Stretching your hand out toward him, you tilted your head. “Now, stop thinking about it, okay? I promise I’m not mad.”

Ranboo hesitated for a second, then slipped his hand into yours, letting you tug him up onto his feet with a grateful grin. “Okay.”

Once he was upright once more, you clapped your hands together. “C’mon, let’s go back to my place. I’ve got some bandages you can use. Besides,” you said, shooting him a cheeky wink, “we still have some potatoes to bake.” You shivered, sticking your tongue out in disgust. “I also need to do some laundry.”

Laughter bubbled up his throat, lighthearted and pure as the two of you strode out of the forest, the sun shining down on you as you made your way home.

Ranboo might be forgetful, but he was sure he wouldn’t ever forget the important things—things like you.

[blufox234isadumbname]

dream (XD, maybe?) visits fundy in his dreams. it's the only thing making them bearable, and keeping him sane

:)

Nobody [inspired by a mitski song]

Many make mistakes, Fundy was one of them. He just wanted to make sure Yoghurt was safe that night, what with more mobs emerging from the south. He just wanted to tuck his kid and make sure he slept better than him. With kiddish purrs becoming white noise, he should've stopped himself when he felt his lids flutter, when his bed dipped and he saw the house go black.

The fox-hybrid opened his eyes, already letting the horror sink in before opening the damn door. It was all over again, he thought he was getting better. No. He was a fool, still a foolish fox. Yoghurt was no longer by his side, and he already started to feel sweltering heat entering the home. Fundy's heart already ached, already sore. His breaths were heavy, weighted over him as he laid in the dreaded empty bed. Tears were beginning to form but he blinked and rubbed them harshly away. Just close your eyes, he thought. But he knew better, wishes could never be reality. He just wanted it to be over, so he had to do it himself. Fundy always had to do everything himself anyways, this was no different.

He got up and readjusted his black breton cap. Steady and stalwart, steps crept towards and stopped in front of the door. Twisting the knob, a final breath was heaved before the same scenery greeted the displeasured fox. He became familiar with the barren land, covered by only hot dry sand and tall cacti. The winds seemed to be strong that dream, dust clouds were choking the poor dreamer. He closed the door behind him, noticing his red tail hung low. First thing was first, he left the area of his house to find anything out of place. It was instinct to try and spot something that stuck out like a sore thumb, besides his little spruce wood cottage.

Fundy sank his naked feet into the sand, burning his padded paws. He trudged along in a random direction, which was wherever the barest clouds were drifting opposite from. That's all he did for a couple of minutes, maybe more than half an hour to him. Prime, he hated how the sun was bright, how the sunshine was a glaring spot above him. He hated to stare at the dull sky for any second longer. He hated winds dusting the sand into his eyes. All of it was n eyesore, metaphorically and litterally.

He just continued onward, awaiting any subtle and not-so-subtle ghostly remnants of his history coming back to haunt. To be reminded of why his life sucked, that was surely fun, right? He wanted a break, a detour from the disaster that was him. For not the first time, he wanted to be elsewhere. Not just in the dream but in reality. Yes, Las Nevadas was the haven he wanted it to be. But that came with the cost of having his dreadfully undead father closer to him. As if he wanted a chance to be mocked and haunted. Even more so, Tubbo and Ranboo causing a commotion with Quackity already had set him at unease. Threats towards a nation he called a home, a lovely return to the cycle. Like dirty water from the sea to acid rain in the clouds, it's become the same horrid cycle.

Speaking of clouds, the fox-hybrid looked up. The smallest gathering of clouds became a crowd of them all across a brighter baby blue canvas. The yucky yellow sand turned a grassier green. If he squinted, he could maybe see the blooms of other than cactus flowers. Finally, a reason for the feet under him to pick up their pace. Fundy kept running towards the green, faster and faster as he could taste them with his fingers. As soon as he was near enough, he dived right into the fresh field. A little mistake, per usual, as he began rolling down a knoll all of a sudden. Through the short wild grass into a taller field of lavender and peonies, the fox finally took a deep breath. A clean and relaxed breath-

"Hello, Fundy."

- before it hitched.

Fundy lifted his head up above the flowers to spot a cleared spot. In the patch of cornflowers and poppies, a naked area of just grass lay, with a figure. He knew it well, with the dirty blonde hair - though he never remembered it being at scruffy and shoulder length - and deadly smile-painted mask adorned. In a lime, white and black letterman jacket over a starkingly orange jumpsuit. He knew that man well, even by the soft humming. The blank eyes of the mask and the man behind to stared at the fox-hybrid. If it weren't a nightmare yet, Fundy figured it just started.

"How are you here?" The hoodied man asked

"Don't...don't even talk to me..." The overcoated fox snarled with teeth bared and tail puffed.

Dream huffed, toying with something in his hands.

"I just asked. The dreamscape is not normally so free reign. For you, you're the least I expected to be able to cross barriers of mind."

"What the fuck are you talking about. Why are you here? What, to haunt me? To mock me? To tell me I'm useless?"

"...To make flower crowns"

He held up said piece of rope strung with flower blooms. His was a cornflower and daisy crown.

"That...that's it?"

"Can you control your dreams?"

"That...it's none of your business, Dream."

"I'm assuming no. But you are willingly seeing me. So in that case, I suppose I can tell you. You know I was imprisoned, in that big ol' prison? Anyway, a being gave me a wish, or rather a gift. I could control my own dreams, I could lucid dream whenever I wanted to. So I could stay in prison while still feeling the grassy field. So I'm here."

"You don't...get nightmares? NOS Cary reminders of your past? Nothing scary?" *And while I do?*, Fundy doesn't add on. Dream pauses for a break. before he answers

"How could I? I control every aspect of my dream. Though you are certainly not part of it. I appreciate the company, kinda? But I'd rather not keep it. It's be nice if I just asked that dream being to remove you-"

"NO!"

"Excuse me?"

"P-Please...I-I don't wanna go back..."

He hated how his voice became frail at the drop of a hat, how his ears flattens and how shaky his hands became. Already begging to a tyrant, the same one who's destroyed everything in his life. What Fundy had begged was true, however, he didn't not want to go back to nightmares. This was the only time the dreams felt good. Albeit muddled by a lime menace, it was better than the frightening things ahead did him. The fox heard the man sigh.

"Sure, sure you can stay."

"Thank you..."

Fundy sat down in front of Dream, criss-cross legged. And the two were silent. The dreamer kept weaving in the flowers in the rope while the intruder simply watched. His clawed hands picked at the grass blades. Admittedly he enjoyed the scenery, if it weren't for the horror of a man in front of him. He noticed the excess rope tossed aside and something in Fundy urged him to use it too. He could tell eyes were on him again even from behind the unmoving mask.

"Yes, you can make flower crowns too. You know how to make one?"

"Y-yeah. Niki taught me how to make one with rope. I made hers with alliums. She gave me one made out to tulips" Fundy chuckled at the memory fondly.

Dream paid no mind just gave Fundy the extra rope and returned to his own project. After that, the quietness continued for much longer. But Fundy was never a fan of long silences.

"...Why a field? Out of flowers? I didn't know you were into this kind of stuff."

Dream paused for a minute, seemingly deliberating. He room a breath and spoke;

"It's just me wanting to relive old memories. Before settling in the SMP, me and George went to a flower field. We just spent half the say there doing jack all."

"It's always George is it?"

"... he's my friend. I'd do anything for him."

"Even terrorising a nation? Even threatening a kid? Even dethroning him?"

"..."

The silence spoke volumes. Fundy knew he overstepped, but it was hard for him to be sympathetic over it. He swore the surroundings looked dimmer for a second.

"I miss him. I'm no longer allowed visitors and even then, he never came by to visit."

"Who did?"

"Sapnap. Bad. Tommy, surely you know. Then Technoblade."

"Wait Techno visited you?"

"Less visit and more just made a new space in my jail cell. It's like a vacation to him. I'm not mad but...I like here better anyway."

"What's it like? In the jail cell."

"Tight. Closed. Hot. And I mean scorching. It's surrounded by lava. Barely much room to move around, not much there. I do have books to write in but so far I have started writing none."

"Someone hasn't been productive, I see?"

"I liked to write stuff. Just random things. But in a cramped space...I can't. I see why people are claustrophobic. It's feel like hell in there...for more than just the lava."

Fundy started to feel a twinge of a heat wave on his back as he stuck a flower into the rope. It died down shortly after.

"Since you're asking me questions. It should be fair I ask you."

"That's...yeah, that's fair."

"What were you doing, before you slept?"

"In bed. Just...alone in my cottage. Far away with no one else." Fundy lied, no matter the somewhat friendly tone, he wasn't ever going to risk Yoghurt.

"I thought you had Eret? Or Niki? I thought maybe you guys stay in at Least a neighbourhood."

"I...I haven't spoken to either in so long. I think they forgot about me. That's...fair"

"Hmm..."

Before I slept I was just building m stuff in Las Nevadas. It's...it's a thing Quackity built. I can't say more than that-"

A roar of something, not too loud but enough to be noticeable, came through. It spooked Fundy well enough.

"Dream what-"

"Let's...not talk about that."

"Well, what else is there to talk about me? I have nothing else. That...that palace is all I got going for me honestly."

"I thought you had more."

"No. After L'manburg, all of it gone, I don't have much else. By who, I wonder?I didn't care, that was fine by me until I did something different. I'm making sure I have a place, at least."

"Like a house?"

Fundy twisted the stalk gently, silently.

"Like a place of belonging. Where I can be remembered and people know where I am."

"I get that..."

"Of course you do, you tyrant. Your name is sure to be famous."

"Not the being remembered part. The belonging part."

The clouds seemed heavier at that moment.

"Find it hard to believe coming from the same guy that he cares for no one but a kid's discs."

"I know what I said, Fundy. But I don't care about the discs. I care about having control. Having everything in my hands. To take strings of the marionette and play them by my fingers. That's what I aim for, not just useless material discs."

"What does this have to do with belonging?"

The roar came back, a roar of thunder.

"The puppet master is not a puppet. He cannot be a puppet. When the puppets go free, he is left for dead..."

Dream's scarred hands clutch the half done green tulip crown. Down a drop goes from the petal. Then another, then another. Fundy looks up, to see the trickles. Down the drops of precipitation go to his face. Fundy's chest felt heavy, clebtched by something in a grip. He saw Dream looking up as well. From the angle he could partially see the bottom features under the mask. A pursed mouth with scars on his lips. Dottings of freckles across his cheeks. Streaks of not raindrops reaching down his chin. He heard the hiccups, the struggle to compose oneself. He knew that too well. Fundy found the part to care about as he stroked Dream's forearm carefully.

"I-I'm sorry, It's...I-I'm never like this. I'll just change-" the masked man's voice was breakable, cusp of falling apart.

"No. I like the rain."

Dream looked back to Fundy. It was true, the fox-hybrid liked rain. He used to play in the puddles as it drizzled even into adulthood, before more important things occupied his time. Like getting weapons for war or spying on a president. Fundy had on a solemn smile, a weak one in the likeable weather. His hair and fur became bristled whislt his tail wrapped unconsciously around him.

"I feel alone too. Everyone has left me

The people that I care about always hate me or leave. They leave me frightened in a place where everything so to survive. I'm barely staying alive as is. I don't have anyone."

"I don't have anyone either. I'm heartless, I pushed them away. Techno is with me, yeah. But what happens then? I'm too scared to find out. All I want is to just be free..."

Fundy laughed a bit. He tossed aside the half-effort flower crown and stood up. He opened his arms wide, further than his shoulders. He kept laughing, giggling, wheezing over. He raked a hand through ginger and snow white locks of his, knocking back his black breton cap.

"What's so funny?"

"Well, one, it's already crazy you're telling me all of this. This all feels like stuff you'd suppressed hard. Even in your dreams. And secondly...god, I wish we talked more sooner."

"What?"

"You and me, both alone in this world. We're unlovable. Reckless bastards we are. I'm not the worst like you but by Prime, I'm just as lonely as you. I can't excuse reving Wilbur and the 16th...but maybe we could've been friends."

He knew dream was smiling, not from the mask but from the small line of daylight peeking through the clouds.

"Fundy, I could never be friends with you. I'd push you away too."

"Then don't push me away now. I'm desperate, man."

"...I wouldn't."

Fundy smiled a glint of the sun right back at Dream. For once in a dream, he was at ease. The pouring rain slowed s little down to a drizzle, enough fro him to avoid smelling of dog water. The clouds journeyed away from the meadow, and let the sun's smile through. He loved the rays of sunshine gracing his face above him. He loved he could stare at the cloud-scattered sky for almost hours. He loved the winnow through the grass that made them dance. He loved it there.

"Sorry about the rain. In my dreams, I rarely can talk to anyone. And techno is not exactly the most relatable with what I have. Outside, I keep it in. But where I am, where we are, is inside me already."

"Fun to know this is the inner machinations of the terror Dream."

"Hehehah"

"...I probably won't remember this happend. When I wake I won't have a clear thought of events. Just so you'd know."

"It's fine. I knew you wouldn't anyway. That's why I let most of it out. That and because, I feel like I can trust you. I can't leave my cell but maybe someday I'll find you again. And maybe-"

A click from behind Dream's head could be heard. He moved his hand latched onto the mask and pulled it down. There he was, gentle scarred smile with even gentler eyes, covered by dirty blonde turning silver white to the tips. Irises coloured almost like emerald and aqua ender eyes looked back to the fox. Finally, his black tipped ears lifted and twitched, and his tail was wagging slightly.

"-we could be alone together again?"

Fundy's heart ached, sore already.

"I'd like to. For now, let's just depend on dreams."

"I can work with that."

Dream tossed his mask aside, uncaring and apathetic to the piece of porcelain disguise. He gently pushed Fundy by the tip of his finger, to which the former feign to be toppled. He fell in the middle of the tall peonies and lavenders and tulips. Dream joined a second after, right next to Fundy. Bliss, this is what he Fundy would call it. He felt less tensed, less mangled on fear. He had spent sleeping hours just shaken, because his fears conquered him alone. Taunting him because he was alone. Preyed on every part of him alone. But now he had a chance, to dwell int eh shrot grass, be crowned royalty in a field of flowers and feel less on his own. Fundy closed his eyes, as the smell of morning dew hit him.

And he woke up, lied curled up next to Yoghurt. And with a flower in his palm. A rose. He already wants to sleep, no matter the chance of being in the desert again. He wants to see the sunshine in the field of flowers more than anything.

[emospritelet]

Heatstroke - chapter 21/23

This fic is next on my list to complete, so wish me luck! Last time, Gold and Lacey danced, and Lacey got Gold to agree to be interviewed. Here's what happened next :)

[AO3]

-

Lacey smoothed her dress over her hips, turning this way and that before the mirror. She was wearing a white summer dress with a flared skirt, her feet in white strappy wedges and her hair tied up. It wasn’t the sort of outfit she usually wore to conduct interviews, but there again this wasn’t one of her usual interviews. She was not about to ask one of Storybrooke’s elderly residents about her success in growing pumpkins or making preserves. She was going to be asking Mr Gold about his life, interests and passions. And with any luck, she’d be able to experience a few of those passions for herself.

She hadn’t seen Gold since the dance, but she could still remember the way he had felt pressed against her and the scent of his cologne in her nose. She had been excited about the interview ever since, and the possibility of getting even closer to him once it was done. Ruby had teased her only a little before telling her to remember to take condoms. Just in case.

She took a final glance at her reflection, nodded decisively, and snatched up the bag with her recording equipment and notebook, throwing the strap over her shoulder. Let’s do this.

The walk to Gold’s house from her own took less than a minute, which gave her no time to be nervous, and she stomped up onto the porch and knocked on the door. He answered promptly, a tiny smile on his face, and she felt her heart thump at the gleam in his eyes.

“Miss French,” he said pleasantly. “Do come in.”

He was wearing one of his suits, black with a dark blue silk shirt and a burgundy silk tie. The shirt had a faint damask pattern, and she found that her eyes were scouring it, running over the lean lines of his body. She hurriedly raised her eyes to his to find him gazing at her steadily. Lacey bit her lip, hoping she wouldn’t blush.

“Hey,” she said quickly. “Uh - thanks for agreeing to do this.”

“You were rather persuasive, as I recall.”

“I’ve been called worse,” she said, and he chuckled, stepping aside to let her in.

“I thought we could use the study for this,” he said. “It’s down the hallway and to your left, but you’re welcome to look around.”

She sent him a smile, stepping past him and hearing him close the door behind her with a soft click as she moved left.

“I was just making some tea,” he said. “May I offer you some?”

“Uh - yeah, thanks.”

He nodded and turned away, and she heard the click of his cane as he headed for the kitchen. An open door led to the lounge, and she couldn’t resist taking a look inside, trying to imagine him relaxing there, with a book and a glass of whisky, and Darcy curled on the rug at his feet. The house was as she imagined, clean and neat, filled with beautiful things, and somehow out of its time. It smelled of beeswax and leather and some woody, earthy scent that she couldn’t quite place. The furniture seemed to be entirely antique, gleaming wood and polished brass and silk brocade, shelves set with porcelain figurines and delicate glass vases.

Lacey stepped back from peering inside the lounge, and headed slowly down the hall, heels clicking on the wooden floor. She let her eyes flick left to right, taking in the surroundings as she went, and her mouth curved upwards in a smile as she turned into what he had called the study. Bookshelves covered two of the walls, a bay window looking out over neat gardens and double glass doors which opened out onto a porch. A heavy desk sat on the wall opposite, a brass lamp to one side and a vase of deep red roses on the other.

She could hear him clattering around in the kitchen, and walked slowly around the room, eyes scanning the shelves. He had books on a wide range of subjects: volumes on antiques, art and ceramics took up one shelf, and there were books on history, law and politics. Novels made up the bulk of his collection, from what she could see, a mixture of classics and modern authors. He had three copies of Pride and Prejudice with different covers. There again, so did she. There were even some children’s books on one shelf, and she remembered that he had a young grandson. The thought of him choosing books so that his grandson might one day enjoy them made her smile.

“Here we are, then.”

Gold’s voice and the clink of china made her look around, and he entered the room with a tray balanced in one arm, shaking his head as she hurried forward.

“I’m used to getting around on my own, don’t concern yourself,” he said, and bent to slide the tray onto the small table in the bay window. The teapot, cups and saucers wobbled a little, but nothing spilled. Relieved, Lacey turned back to the bookshelves, eyeing a carved wooden bookend in the shape of an owl.

“You have some nice things,” she said. “Stock or personal?”

“Most of it’s personal,” he said from behind her. “I do rotate a few pieces between my home and the shop, but I find that if I like something enough to bring it into my home, it tends to stay there.”

Lacey turned on her toes to face him. He was standing by the window, both hands on the handle of his cane, watching her.

“Well,” she said. “I guess we should make a start.”

She spent a couple of minutes setting up her recording equipment and taking out her notebook and pencil. There were two chairs in the bay window, wing back armchairs in oxblood leather that creaked as she sat down. The chair was surprisingly comfortable, and she shifted position, tugging at the skirt of her dress and arranging it over her thighs. Gold lowered himself into the chair opposite, and Lacey pressed play on the recording equipment.

“Interview with Mr Gold, Sunday, July eighteenth at”—Lacey checked her watch—”four-oh-nine.”

She sat back and crossed her legs, meeting Gold’s eyes.

“Thank you for agreeing to this interview, Mr Gold,” she said.

“My pleasure, Miss French.”

His voice was a low rumble, and Lacey squeezed her thighs together, clearing her throat as she did so. She wondered if he knew the effect his voice had on her.

“I thought we’d start with some of your personal history,” she said. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Ask your questions,” he said.

“You promised to answer all of them, right?” she said, and he lifted one shoulder and let it fall in a lazy shrug.

“A deal’s a deal.”

“Right.”

Lacey glanced down at her notebook, where she had scribbled some of things she wanted to raise.

“So, Logan Gold, born in Glasgow, moved to the US in 1993,” she said. “Studied first at Oxford, then at Harvard, and became a lawyer. Got married, had a son and eventually obtained full custody following a pretty vicious divorce. Worked in New York for several large legal firms before settling down in the sleepy small town of Storybrooke in Maine to run a pawn shop. Quite a change of pace.”

A flick of Gold’s eyebrow was the only indication of surprise.

“You’ve done your homework,” he observed, and she shrugged.

“That’s my job.”

Gold raised a finger.

“You forgot to mention my extensive property empire,” he said, and she raised an eyebrow.

“You want me to stroke your ego, is that it?”

He showed his teeth.

“I wouldn’t want you to be accused of being anything but thorough.”

“Fine,” she sighed. “You run a pawn shop and own most of the property in town, yadda yadda yadda.”

“Well, we seem to have concluded the whistle-stop tour of my life,” he remarked. “Perhaps the interview is over.”

“Hey, not so fast!” she said immediately, making him grin. “I was just getting the dull stuff out of the way.”

Gold inclined his head.

“Ask your questions, Miss French.”

“Okay.” Lacey glanced down at her notes, her heart thudding a little. “Uh - what made you move to the US?”

“Work, mostly,” he said. “As you have already mentioned, I studied law at Oxford, and knew I wanted to pursue it as a career. I was fortunate enough to get a scholarship to study at Harvard, and I’ve been in the US ever since.”

“How easy did you find it to adjust to living in a new country?”

He pulled a face.

“It wasn’t so bad,” he said. “Perhaps because I was so busy with my studies, and then work. I didn’t have a lot of time for anything else. I think maybe it was harder to adjust when I moved out of the city. Being in New York is nothing like being in Storybrooke.”

“In what way?”

“Every way,” he said. “The pace of life is far slower, which is mostly a relief, but irritating when you want something done quickly. People are friendly, and want to get to know you. They stop to talk to you in the street, and greet you with some sort of sincerity.”

“The horror,” she remarked, and he grinned.

“Let’s just say I never did get used to that side of things.”

“Never tempted to move back?”

“No,” he said immediately. “No, I’m content to stay here.”

“And what about going back to Scotland?”

“I’ve been back a few times,” he said. “It’s changed a lot over the years. I still like to visit, but my home is here now. I’d only go back if my family decided to.”

“Your son, right?” she said. “And you have a grandson.”

“Yes. Henry.” Gold smiled faintly. “My son and his wife have spent their entire lives in the US. They’re very settled here, so I can’t see them wanting to leave, and I would never leave without them. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Miss French.”

Good.

Aloud she said: “Family’s important to you, then.”

“The most important thing in my life,” he said, with a sincerity that touched her. “I know I’ve made a lot of money, and when you consider where I came from, I imagine I’ve made a success of my life. But my family is what matters.”

Lacey tapped her pencil against her lips.

“You never remarried,” she said. “Why not?”

Gold didn’t answer immediately. He sat forward, reaching for the teapot. Lacey watched tea pour in a thin, amber stream, and he pushed a cup and saucer towards her before adding a little milk to his own tea and stirring.

“I believe you used the words ‘vicious divorce’,” he said. “I have to say that is something of an understatement. I’m afraid it rather put me off the idea of relationships.”

Lacey felt something inside her turn to stone and fall into the pit of her stomach.

“Oh,” she said. “Completely?”

Gold pulled a face, taking a sip of tea.

“Let’s just say that my son and daughter-in-law have been pestering me about dating for years and I have only recently started to entertain the idea.”

He held her gaze for a moment, and Lacey felt her heart lighten.

“Sounds as though they care about you a lot,” she observed, and he smiled.

“Yes. As I tell myself when I find their interference particularly irritating.”

She chuckled a little, and decided to change the subject.

“So why antiques?” she said, and Gold smiled, setting his cup in its saucer.

“Antiques give you a taste of other people’s lives,” he said. “Each piece in my shop has a story behind it. Someone owned it before it came to me. Perhaps it was a cherished object, set on a shelf of a display cabinet and taken out and admired. Perhaps it was wrapped in newspaper and shoved into a packing crate and ignored. Either way it’s all history, all a part of other people’s existences.”

Lacey smiled, somewhat entranced by the sound of his voice.

“It’s strange,” she said. “I didn’t think you liked people all that much.”

That tiny smile again.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t find them interesting.”

“But to go from being a top lawyer to running a shop,” she said. “It must have been a hell of a change of pace.”

“The shop’s just a hobby, really,” he said. “I enjoy it, but it’s not where I make my money. The rental business is my chief source of income, and what takes up most of my time. Scheduling repairs, arranging for renovation, that sort of thing.”

“So, no plans to expand outside Storybrooke?” she asked, and he let out a short laugh.

“No no, I’m trying to concentrate on the town itself,” he said. “You may be aware of the local entrepreneur fund that the Mayor set up last year. I’ve donated to that and provide business advice to some of those that signed up. I’ve also been involved in refurbishing some of the old warehouse buildings near the harbour. Looking to attract some local businesses there, revitalise the area.”

Lacey nodded, reaching for her tea and taking a drink.

“Very generous of you.”

“If the town prospers, so do I,” he said. “It’s good business sense, that’s all.”

“Right.” She took another drink of tea. “So we’ve covered your family, your work. I'm interested in going back to your early years, but let's deal with the present for now. What do you do in your spare time?”

Gold sat back a little, pursing his lips.

“I’m afraid it’s nothing very exciting,” he said. “I read a lot.”

“So I’ve seen.”

“I like to cook,” he added.

“Even when you’re on your own?” she asked. “I don’t know, I’ve been living alone for years, and sometimes it’s all I can do to throw a pizza in the oven.”

His mouth twitched.

“Well, food is a sensual pleasure,” he said, the tone of his voice lowering again. “It’s important to take your time. To savour it. Sometimes the most enjoyment comes from the time and care taken in its preparation.”

She was almost certain he was flirting with her.

“Time and care’s all very well, but if the execution sucks it’s wasted effort,” she said bluntly, and Gold grinned.

“Practice makes perfect.”

“True enough.”

He was still grinning, and she felt as though she was about two minutes away from launching herself at his crotch. She looked down at her notes to refocus.

“Okay, quick fire round,” she said. “Ten questions, don’t think too hard about the answers. Ready?”

He blinked at her, but nodded.

“Go ahead.”

“Sweet or savoury?”

“Sweet.”

“Coffee or tea?”

“Tea.”

“Cats or dogs?”

“I have to choose?”

Lacey nodded in acknowledgement.

“Okay, that’s fair. Cats and dogs both rule,” she said. “Winter or summer?”

“Winter.”

“Okay…” Lacey pretended to be checking her notes. “Legs or boobs?”

“What?”

“I told you, don’t think too much!”

“Uh - legs.”

“Favourite alcoholic drink?”

“Single malt whisky.”

“Favourite thing to eat?”

The flick of an eyebrow.

“Are we talking food?” he asked, his voice a low purr, and Lacey squeezed her legs together.

“You have a dirty mind, Gold.”

“You could only consider that comment dirty if your mind was also dirty.”

“Just answer the question!”

“Lamb slow-roasted with rosemary and lots of garlic.”

Lacey felt her mouth water.

“Ugh, that sounds delicious!”

“It is.”

“Okay, focus!” She rolled her eyes, more at herself than him. “Boxers or briefs?”

He grinned at that, eyebrows twitching.

“Boxers.”

“Favourite place to visit?”

“Scotland.”

“Who do you miss right now?”

“My son.”

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause. Gold was wide-eyed and looking a little shell-shocked, as though he couldn’t believe that she had asked the question and that he had answered it. Lacey smirked, tapping her pencil on the notepad.

“Well,” she said. “That’s out of the way, then.”

Gold was silent for a moment.

“I’m going to have to insist that that question and its answer don’t make it into the Storybrooke Mirror,” he said evenly, and Lacey grinned, uncrossing and recrossing her legs, and noting the way his eyes followed the movement.

“Believe me, that’s just between us,” she said, and he looked amused.

“Thank goodness for that.”

“You’re a pretty private person, huh?” she observed.

“Extremely.”

“Don’t want anyone in town knowing your business.”

“Takes the mystery out,” he quipped.

“Uh-huh.” She sat back. “So why did you agree to do this interview?”

A tiny smile made his eyes gleam.

“Perhaps I enjoyed our time together the other night.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.” He raised an eyebrow. “Does that surprise you?”

“It would have surprised me a few weeks ago,” she admitted. “Our first meetings weren’t all that promising, remember?”

“First impressions can be misleading,” he said.

“I guess so.”

There was a moment of silence, and Lacey looked him up and down very deliberately.

“If it makes you feel any better,” she said. “I want to have sex with you, too.”

Gold stared at her for a moment, and then barked a laugh.

“That wasn’t a joke,” she said, and he shook his head, waving a hand.

“No, it’s just that Emma—my daughter-in-law—she said you liked me. And she knew I had feelings for you. She knew before I did.”

“She probably knew I liked you before I did, too,” remarked Lacey. “Are we both wilfully blind, or just dumb?”

Gold laughed at that, his eyes twinkling.

“Perhaps a little of both,” he said. “Although in our defence we didn’t have the most auspicious start, did we?”

“I don’t know, I got to see you naked,” she said. “Got that out of the way.”

Gold laughed again, and Lacey put her head to the side.

“So when did your opinion change?” she asked. “Pretty sure you found me annoying as hell to start with.”

“Oh, I did,” he said, grinning. “I’m not sure when it changed.”

“How did you know it had?”

Gold sucked his teeth, raising his eyes to the ceiling for a moment before looking back.

“I had a very vivid dream about you one night that caused me to reevaluate how I felt.”

Lacey sat forward, feeling her mouth drop open.

“A dream?”

“Very. Vivid,” he said, enunciating each word, and she felt curiosity surge in her.

“What happened?”

Gold chuckled deeply.

“Oh, I’m not telling you that.”

Lacey gave him a flat look.

“Do I need to remind you about the deal we made?” she asked. “You said I could ask you anything, and you’d give me an answer.”

Gold sat back, running his hands over his face with a grumbling sigh before looking through his fingers at her.

“I didn’t mean sex dreams,” he said, his tone muffled.

“Then you should have made that an explicit term, Mr Hot-Shot Lawyer,” she countered. “And you can’t drop ‘sex dreams’ on me and then say nothing, no fair.”

He sighed again, and let his hands drop to his lap, his expression one of rueful amusement.

“Fine,” he said. “But turn off the tape.”

Lacey reached for the recording equipment, smirking at him.

“What’s the matter, don’t you trust me?”

“Yes,” he said. “It’s more the unintended consequences of having this conversation recorded that’s bothering me. Fate has a twisted sense of humour, after all. With my luck it would accidentally end up being broadcast on Radio FTL’s Good Morning Storybrooke in place of the weather forecast, or something.”

“True enough,” she agreed, and switched off the recording before setting her notepad aside and turning to face him. “So. About this dream.”

Gold grumbled again.

“God, this is excruciating,” he muttered, and Lacey smirked.

“Well, you know what they say,” she said. “If you’re uncomfortable, just picture your audience naked.”

Gold stared at her, and burst out laughing again. Lacey grinned.

“Good, I can make you laugh,” she said. “Come on, tell me how we got our sexy on.”

“God, that makes it sound even worse,” he sighed.

“I’m waiting.”

Another sigh, and he ran a hand over his mouth, shaking his hair back.

“Alright,” he said eventually. “I dreamt that you came to the shop while I was going through my ledgers. You were dressed in a - uh - very tight black dress and very high heels, and you took my hand, led me into the back room, and - and went down on me.”

He seemed uncomfortable, his eyes looking everywhere but at hers, as though he were ashamed. Lacey pursed her lips.

“Huh,” she said. “I think I’ve had that same dream.”

Gold laughed out loud, shaking his head and grinning.

“You constantly surprise me, Miss French,” he said.

“Good.” Lacey pushed slowly to her feet. “Let me see if I can keep doing that.”

She took a step towards him, then another, and sank down on her knees on the rug, sitting on her heels and putting her hands on his thighs. Gold’s breathing had quickened, his nostrils flaring a little, his eyes dark and deep.

“So,” said Lacey softly. “I got on my knees, hmm?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

She slid her hands slowly up his thighs, rising up on her knees and gently pushing his legs apart.

“Like this?”

Gold swallowed hard. His hands were resting on his thighs, the fingers twitching a little, as though they ached to touch her.

“A - a little.”

“Hmm.” She shifted forward, pushing between his legs, hands sliding further up until her fingertips brushed along the edge of his waistcoat. “And then what happened?”

Gold licked his lips, his breathing unsteady.

“To my great regret,” he said. “I woke up.”

Lacey let out a soft laugh, catching his eyes with hers.

“Well then,” she said. “I guess we’ll have to improvise.”

She had shifted forward, her body pressed up against his groin, her fingers stroking his sides, and her mouth was almost close enough to touch his. His breath was cool against her lips, the tip of his nose just brushing against hers, and her heart was thumping hard in her chest.

“Improvise,” he whispered. “Yes.”

His hands slid up her sides, fingers trailing over the curves of her hips, her waist, her shoulders. Her own breathing had quickened, the throb of her pulse heavy in her lips, her throat, her groin. She gently brushed her lips against his, pulling his breath into her lungs, tasting his scent on her tongue, and when she opened her eyes his gaze was dark enough to make her shiver.

“Take me to bed,” she said, and his breath seemed to catch in his throat, his mouth twitching.

“Yes, Lacey,” he breathed. “Yes.”

[jammatown919]

Sick of Losing Soulmates

Takes place in an AU where everyone made it to Vacuo and they got to enroll as students at Shade rather than being thrown into an adult position like they were in Atlas.

Upon waking to the sound of quiet sniffling, Ruby's first thought was that Penny was having another nightmare. She'd been having quite a lot of them in the weeks since the group's arrival at Shade Academy, and while Ruby certainly didn't mind getting up to comfort her girlfriend, it was always difficult to listen to her tearful retellings of the horrors her newly human brain had chosen to subject her to.

Blinking away the last remnants of sleep, Ruby sat up and steeled herself, only to turn her head and find that Penny wasn't crying. Instead, she was sitting up against the headboard of their bed with her eyes closed, gently massaging her temples.

"What's wrong?" Ruby asked softly so as not the wake the rest of the team. Judging by the sunlight pouring into the dorm, their alarms would be going off soon anyway, but she wasn't in the mood to hear Yang moaning about being woken up early.

"I feel awful." Penny whined, her voice thin and nasally.

"Oh, sweetie," Ruby murmured sympathetically, reaching over to feel Penny's forehead. "Are you sick?"

Penny sighed at Ruby's touch, relaxing slightly. Ruby, on the other hand, stiffened in surprise as the heat from Penny's skin met her fingers.

"Jeez, you're burning up." She remarked.

"I'm what?" Penny asked, her eyes going wide with alarm.

"You have a fever." Ruby clarified. "Don't worry, it's totally normal. Just another part of being human."

"I do not like this part." Penny muttered, sounding absolutely miserable. Ruby gently brushed some hair from her girlfriend's face, her heart aching for her.

"Why don't you lay back down?" She suggested. "I'll go and grab you some stuff."

Penny gave a slight nod and sank back down into her pillow as Ruby slid out of bed and slipped quietly from the room.

After about twenty minutes, ten of which were spent wandering the Academy's halls trying to figure out where their floor's student kitchen was, Ruby returned to the dorm with everything she thought Penny would need.

By now, the rest of the team was awake and going about their morning routines, though it seemed they'd realized something wasn't right with Penny and were making an effort to make as little noise as possible. As Ruby crossed the room, she saw Yang glance at the items in her hands and nod in understanding.

"Penny," Ruby said quietly. For a moment, she thought Penny might have drifted back to sleep, but then she opened her eyes and squinted up at Ruby. "Hey, I have everything you'll need for now."

She handed Penny a paper plate with two slices of toast and two bright orange gel capsules, as well as a glass of milk.

"Milk?" Penny inquired, peering curiously into the cup.

"Whole milk." Ruby specified. "My dad gave this to me whenever I got sick as a kid. It's supposed to help you get better faster."

"I don't think that's correct." Penny replied, though she still took a sip to wash down the pills. She glanced briefly at the toast, and then set it, along with the rest of the milk, on the nightstand beside their bed. Slowly, she began to sit up, prompting Ruby to put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"What are you doing?"

"I have to get ready." Penny replied, giving Ruby a puzzled look. "It would be awfully rude to our new teachers if we were late for class."

"Baby, you're sick. You should stay here." Ruby gently nudged Penny back down.

"But all of us are already behind on the year's coursework." Penny protested, though Ruby could tell she really didn't have it in her to argue much. "What if I miss something important?"

"I'll take notes for you." Ruby promised. "Or, if you want, I can stay here to take care of you and Weiss can take notes for us."

"That's very kind, but I would feel terrible if you missed class on my account."

"You know I wouldn't mind." Ruby replied, gently cupping Penny's warm cheek. "You're more important."

Penny smiled softly, bringing a hand up to lay it over Ruby's.

"I will be fine." She promised. "Go."

"Alright," Ruby sighed and pressed a kiss to Penny's forehead. "I'll come check on you at lunch. Try to eat some of that toast if you feel up for it. And drink plenty of water."

"Affirmative." Penny replied, managing to muster up some semblance of cheer in her voice. Ruby smiled, then turned toward the closet to pick out her outfit for the day.

---------------------

Penny didn't remember falling asleep, but she knew she must have. One minute, Team RWBY was bustling around the dorm getting ready for the day, then she'd blinked and suddenly she was alone in the room and the clock above the door read 10:21am.

The nap, as well as the medication Ruby had given her, appeared to have done her some good. Her congestion was still there, but less so, and her headache was finally subsiding. Maybe she could attend her classes after all.

She pulled back the covers and moved to get out of bed, only to be instantly hit with a wave of dizziness. Grabbing the mattress for support, she dangled her legs over the side of the bed and waited for the spell to pass. Once it had, she remembered Ruby's instructions to eat and credited her lightheadedness to fact that she had yet to heed them.

Though she had little appetite, Penny reached for the plate and slowly began to eat, forcing each bite down until she felt nauseous. For the sake of not making herself any sicker, she settled for finishing most of her meal and gently set the plate back down on the nightstand. Then, with more effort than she would have liked, she hauled herself out of bed.

Teetering, she made her way over to the closet, trying to blink away the black spots that had formed on the edge of her vision. She'd never seen those before, and so she wasn't quite sure what to make of them. Where they a normal part of being sick? Perhaps Ruby could tell her when she got to class.

Gripping the doorframe, she grabbed one of Ruby's shirts off it's hanger. She had a few of her own, provided by Shade Academy, but she vastly preferred Ruby's soft t-shirts.

As she stood in the doorway, trying to decide if she wanted to wear one of her own skirts or a pair of Ruby's shorts, the dizziness returned and the room around here suddenly tipped to the side.

She hit the floor with a loud thud, the shirt falling from her hands, and found that her limbs would no longer obey her. Try as she might, she couldn't get back up; she couldn't even lift her head. As her vision swam, she briefly considered calling for help, but nobody was around to hear her.

There was nothing she could do. Nothing except close her eyes and let herself fade.

------------------------------

Ruby had been antsy all morning. She really, really hadn't liked the idea of leaving her fevered girlfriend alone in the dorm, especially since it was her first time being sick. Part of her kind of wished she hadn't listen to Penny and stayed behind instead.

The second her last class of the morning was over, Ruby was rushing back to the dorm to check on Penny, stopping briefly in the cafeteria to get her something to eat. After a few moments of consideration, she decided on bringing Penny some soup, and then she was off again, Weiss trailing after her with the spoon she'd forgotten to pick up.

Though they were on entirely separate floors of the Academy, the trip from the cafeteria to her team's dorm only took Ruby about ninety seconds. In her haste to get back to Penny, she'd abandoned Weiss at the elevator two halls over.

"Penny!" Ruby called as she pushed the door open, stepping quickly into the dorm. "I brought you some..." Her brow furrowed in confusion as her gaze fell upon an empty bed, then shot up in alarm when she noticed Penny lying on the floor near the closet.

For a moment, she was reminded of a dream she'd had a few nights ago, and was certain that there was blood seeping into the carpet. Then she blinked and it was gone, leaving just her girlfriend's unconscious body.

"PENNY!" Ruby dropped the container of soup and quite literally flew across the room with some help from her Semblance, dropping to her knees at Penny's side.

She grabbed hold of Penny's shoulders and began to shake her, loudly calling her name, but Penny remained limp and unresponsive. As she continued to shout, Weiss hurried into the room.

"What in the world are you screaming ab- oh..." Weiss stood in the doorway for a moment, staring at the two, then snapped out of her shock and rushed into the bathroom. She reemerged moments later with a damp cloth.

"She's not waking up." Ruby mumbled numbly as Weiss knelt down beside them, gently dabbing the cloth on Penny's forehead.

"She needs a doctor." Weiss replied calmly, her hand resting on Penny's face for a moment. "Was her fever this high this morning?"

"I-I don't know.." Ruby stammered, her voice trembling almost as much as her body. She gripped Penny a little tighter, giving her another rough shake. "C'mon, Penny, wake up."

"Let's get her to the infirmary." Weiss suggested. She began to put her arms around Penny's torso, presumably to help carry her, but Ruby held onto her protectively.

"No, I've got her." Nothing against Weiss, but Ruby really didn't trust anyone but herself with Penny right now. She was too prone, too fragile.

"Okay," Weiss didn't protest at all, just stood and allowed Ruby to scoop Penny up and lift her alone. "But we should hurry. We don't want her getting any worse."

Just the thought of Penny being in any worse condition than she was now was enough to send Ruby sprinting down the hallway, unhindered by the extra weight. She didn't even know how to process the emotions running through her right now; all she knew was that she was terrified.

What if Penny did get worse? What if she didn't wake up? Ruby had already lost her once, and come so close to losing her again back in Atlas. What would she do if Penny didn't recover? If she never got to see those beautiful green eyes or that endearing smile ever again?

Stop, she thought firmly. She couldn't start spiraling. Penny would be fine, with some time and medical attention. She'd probably be awake in a few hours, and Ruby would realize there'd been no reason to worry.

She's going to be fine, her mind echoed as she ran. She has to be fine.

-------------

Penny woke to the sound of a heart monitor, which she found extremely concerning. Even more concerning was the fact that her limbs felt like lead, and she could hardly move beyond flexing her fingers. She tried to call out for someone, anyone, but all that escaped her lips was a string of incoherent mumbles.

"Penny?" A familiar voice responded urgently from somewhere beside her. Was that Ruby?

"Mmnn?" Penny groaned, forcing her eyes open with great difficulty.

"Thank God you're awake." Ruby let out a sigh, one hand lightly caressing Penny's face.

"Wha'?" Penny mumbled, struggling to take in her surroundings. It appeared she'd been moved while she was unconscious, and though she'd never been here before, she could reasonably assume that it was Shade Academy's infirmary.

She turned her head, resting on an uncomfortably hard pillow which in turn rested on an equally uncomfortable bed, to look around for the heart monitor that had woken her. Much to her surprise, it was right beside the bed, displaying vital signs that she could only assume were hers. Next to it was an IV drip, the bag nearly empty.

"Baby?" Ruby asked quietly, leaning in close. Penny quickly returned her attention to her girlfriend.  "How do you feel?"

"Tired." Penny replied weakly, momentarily squeezing her eyes shut in response to the returning headache.

"Yeah, I bet. Weiss and I found you unconscious in the dorm." Ruby explained, her voice soft and sympathetic, but still somewhat anxious. "You didn't hit your head or anything, right? The doctors said you probably didn't, but I just want to make sure."

"I'm alright." Penny assured her softly. "I believe I fainted."

"You sure did." Ruby replied, relaxing slightly. "What were you doing out of bed?"

"I was getting dressed," Penny said. "To go to class."

"What?!" Ruby exclaimed. Penny flinched at the sudden increase in volume, and she immediately lowered her voice. "Penny, why in the world would you have tried to go to class? You had to have been feeling terrible if you passed out."

"I thought I was feeling better until I stood up."

"And you didn't lay back down when you realized you weren't?"

"Well, no..." Penny admitted, unsure if the warmth in her face was due to the fever or embarrassment. "But, it was not that bad, was it?"

"Not that bad?" Ruby echoed incredulously. "Penny, it was absolutely that bad! You didn't just faint, you've been unconscious for almost seven hours. Your fever went up so high that you needed an IV. I was so scared you weren't going to wake up."

"You were?" Penny felt her brow furrow as she gazed upon Ruby's anxious face.

"Yeah." Tears sprang into Ruby's eyes, and she quickly turned her face to hide them. "I was terrified when we found you. For a minute I- I thought you were dead."

"Ruby..."

"I lost you before at Beacon. I almost lost you so many times in Atlas." Ruby sniffled, her voice thick with emotion. She turned back toward Penny, tears flowing freely down her face. "I had a dream the other night that you didn't make it to Vacuo. You lost that fight with Cinder, and you were hurt, and I wasn't there to help you. You had to ask Jaune to kill you just to stop your powers from going to Cinder. When I found you, you looked just like you did in the dream, and I was so scared that I'd lost you again."

Penny's chest constricted the way it always did when Ruby cried, and she was now certain that the burning in her body was more shame than fever.

"I'm so sorry." She said quietly, fighting back tears of her own. "I never meant to make you upset."

"You don't need to apologize." Ruby sighed, reaching out to rest a hand on Penny's shoulder. "I'm not mad, I just don't want anything to happen to you. You're so new to all these human things; there's so much that can hurt you now that couldn't before, and I'm worried about you."

"I promise I will listen to you from now on."

"You don't always have to listen to me." Ruby said gently. "I know I'm too protective sometimes. But please, listen to your body. If you feel like something's wrong, it probably means something's wrong."

"I think I understand." Penny gave a slight nod, which was about all she could manage without worsening the pain in her head. "I will do my best to prevent situations like this in the future."

"Good," Ruby leaned in so that their foreheads were almost touching. "Because I'm sick of losing you."

"You will never lose me again." Penny said as Ruby pressed a firm kiss to her fevered cheek. "I promise."

--------------------------------------------------

If you enjoyed this piece, please consider reblogging to share it with others! Likes unfortunately don’t help posts to circulate, so the only way for content creators on this site to have their work seen is if people decide to reblog it. If you do reblog, I see you and I love you. 

[thirteenthdyke]

oh yeah. here are my #thoughts on netflix a81 btw. (it’s long)

disclaimer these are just my thoughts from watching it once & all in a single day like two days ago. there were things i liked and things i didn’t like! obviously the biggest thing i didn’t like was melody not being gay but i feel like that’s been gone over so many times and i’ve been angry about it so long i’m kind of just tired so. moving on! 

things i liked: 

- the sound design - i know the creator said they were inspired by the podcast’s incredible sound design, and it really showed. i listened to most of the episodes with earbuds in, and that was definitely the best way to go - sometimes the most enjoyable part of a scene was just how it sounded. 

- ratty was there 💗💗💗 and he even lived maybe 

- i genuinely enjoyed mark’s character i thought he was funny and he had a fun role in the tv show. i do wish he’d had more petty gay best friend energy but i guess that’s harder to show off when dan doesn’t have a girlfriend for him to hate

- i LOVED the cold opens at the start of every episode & i thought that was the closest they got to the spirit of the podcast - it especially reminded me of s2 and all the weird seemingly unrelated tapes that tied into the overarching story dan had to figure out. 

- rat (jacob?) wasn’t there ❤️

things i didn’t like: 

- my genuine biggest complaint (asides from melody making out w samuel) was the change in motivation for melody and dan? one of my favorite parts of s1 in the podcast is how in a way they’re both motivated simply by the need to finish the story. this is more obvious in dan and less so in melody (since she’s also motivated by finding jesse) but it’s still true for both of them, and i remember that being a big draw for me as a person who loves discussion of narrative in media and when characters are aware they are in a story....that is simply My Thing. so to have that taken away to give dan and melody motivations that are? both partially based off of parents (dan wanting to know why his dad is in the tapes/tragic backstory tying in/invested in melody’s fate specifically & melody looking for her mother in visser being her only motivator before getting deeper into it w anabelle & samuel, etc) felt like Such a downgrade for me and evidence of honestly lazier storywriting. 

- how everything was connected and everyone was related. when davenport said samuel was his brother........ bro this isn’t once upon a time it’s a horror tv show. plus melody being dan’s dad’s patient & dan’s family dying because of visser stuff & melody being related to some ancient witches...idk i paid less attention towards the end. OH and melody’s mom being the groundskeeper kjdsghkf like. i’m so sorry i did not care about that at all. 

- related to both of the above but giving dan a tragic backstory made him so less just some guy.....like podcast dan is truly Just Some Guy and i felt like we were missing that. also podcast dan is more of a loser (i mean this in a nice way)  

- whatever was going on with the plot in the 1920s. sorry i didn’t really pay attention i spent most of the time trying to figure out who was playing iris vos cause she wasn’t listed on imdb yet (believe it or not :/ i recognized her from a ouat role from like 2015. also from watching fringe with my dad over the summer. anyway)

- a lot of other people said this but the downgrade from eldritch unknowable leviathans to religious horror/a demon with a name....not fun! not a fan!! i kept waiting for all the religious stuff to kind of like. be something else when the curtain got pulled back but it never happened. especially upsetting since they all kept referencing ‘the otherworld’ and then it was just a weird little dream sequeunce like.....no dude i want the world where the city is!! where the blacktop is!!!! 

- the only canon lesbian being an evil cultist :/ when it should have been melody 

in conclusion: i think it’s a perfectly okay adaptation of the podcast - it makes sense that there had to be a lot of new stuff, as other people have said again they had to expand a roughly 2 hour podcast into an 8 hour tv show so there would need to be a lot of new information. but boy they were not kidding when they said ‘loosely based’ huh  i also thought it was really cool to have a horror tv show with a black lead and multiple important characters of color, and i think all the actors did a really good job! however storywise i felt like the horror was a step down from where it was in the podcast and honestly </3 just wasn’t that scary. i wish they hadn’t been afraid to be weirder - they went there a few times w the cold opens & ratty!! a lot of the other horror stuff just felt very unoriginal to me though. anyway once again these are literally just my thoughts you do not have to agree with them at all lmao. if u read this far thank u i appreciate it and i hope this was legible. i’m gonna go relisten to a81 the podcast again now see ya 

[lostinthewiind]

Brave Heart: Chapter Thirty-Two

Attack on Titan

Rating: Mature

Warnings: sexual themes, death, gore, mature themes, extreme violence, body horror, blood, weapons, major character death, age-gap relationship

"So you're saying, that to take this Titan down, we're gonna stuff gunpowder down its throat and hope that's enough to destroy the nape of the neck?" Levi seriously doubted Erwin's hail-mary plan.

"That's correct," Erwin confirmed, his stoic expression proof that he either fully believed in his plan or simply refused to show that he understood the flaws in his strategy as well.

Levi hummed to himself as he looked down at the map of wall Sina laid out on the table. "With all the heat the bastard's making, I'd expect the powder to ignite without a detonator. Although a lot of this is banking on the Titan hanging its mouth open."

"An explosion outside of the nape may not penetrate," Erwin explained as he sketched a rough drawing of the Titan. "The flesh inside its throat is softer, more vulnerable; but the target may protect that point. It's been dragging its face along the ground. Frankly, we don't even know that it has a mouth to open. That's the gamble this time. Gigantic though it is, its vital point is still one meter high and ten centimetres across. Unless we destroy that, it will regenerate and form another shield of heat. We cannot waste this chance."

By the time the sun had begun rising that morning, every available soldier was already wide awake, ready to put Erwin's proposal into action and pray that it worked before the gigantic Reiss Titan broke through wall Sina and into Orvud District.

Trying to stay true to her promise, Vera vowed to herself that no matter what happened, she would stick to the previously agreed-upon plan and not deviate unless she absolutely had to. After getting some rest and a fresh perspective, Vera now realized how much more harm than help she caused by rushing ahead the day before. And thanks to Levi, she also grasped just how lucky she was to still be drawing breath.

All of this, however, was simply background noise in Vera's head as she stood atop wall Sina, gaze fixated on the Reiss Titan that was slowly but surely approaching. With its thin, spindly limbs dragging its rotund body along the ground, it was sure to reach the wall within minutes.

On the ground below, the citizens of Orvud were none the wiser to what was taking place mere miles away from them. Instead, they were bored and annoyed at the idea of a sudden and random evacuation drill. In that moment, Vera wished she could have been among them. The saying 'ignorance is bliss' was something that she had learned was shockingly true with every day she spent risking her life in the Survey Corps.

If Vera had known what being a soldier really entailed when she was younger, she wondered if she would have ever actually enlisted as a cadet in the first place.

As the first round of cannons went off, each and every one of them aimed at the approaching Titan, Vera wasn't shocked in the least to see that they did next to nothing to deter the beast. Still, the Garrison Regiment fired again and again, but the many small explosions were nothing in comparison to just how monstrous this Titan was.

"Well, how'd that do?" Erwin questioned aloud as the smoke from another burst of cannon fire began to dissipate. Just like before, however, the Titan persisted forward as the Garrison fired their line of field cannons. "Looks like the field cannons are even less effective."

"Makes sense," Levi noted. "The cannons on the wall have a way better angle. And they didn't do shit to it either. What's the problem?"

"Unprepared soldiers. Scraped-together cannons. Shallow leadership," Erwin answered plainly. "The Titans have always attacked from the south. Not only is this a northern garrison, it's in the Interior. Therefore, I can tell you for a fact this is the best we'll get."

Levi groaned as the Garrison fired yet again, still dealing little to no damage to the Reiss Titan. "Yeah, that much is painfully clear. And, of course, your strategy for getting us through this battle comes down to a gamble. Just like every other plan that you've come up with."

"Erwin, I brought the goodies!" Hange cheerfully announced as they led a group of men, who were carrying a net full of barrels and other supplies, along the wall. "All the gun-powder, ropes, and netting I could find. We still need to put it together though." Hange then gestured to some sort of makeshift weapon with spikes and hooks that was being wheeled in. "Oh, got this too. There's another one just like it a bit farther down. The trigger's held in place, so once fired, it'll wind itself right back up just like ODM gear. So, we do any damage?"

"Imagine a swarm of cicadas pissing on it," Levi described.

Hange grinned. "Then we'll actually use these things. Exciting."

As things began to ramp up, Erwin gathered the troupes and started preparing for the actual attack. "Captain Levi, Jean, Sasha, Connie, you handle that side."

"Yes, Sir!" The four saluted before rushing to where supplies were set up a little bit farther down the wall.

Hanging back with the others, Vera observed the way Hange was staring at the pile of ropes and barrels in front of themself, brow cocked like they were trying to piece together a puzzle inside their head. "How should we approach this. Lemme see," Hange pondered. "Think of it like we're wrapping up a nice gift for someone special!"

As Vera and the others got to work wrapping the barrels of gunpowder up in the netting, Erwin approached Historia from behind. Vera didn't mean to eavesdrop, but from where she was standing, she could hear everything.

"I believe you heard from Levi, Historia," he said. "Assuming we live through this, we'll have you become the queen who rules this world within the walls. So naturally, I can't have you fighting on the front lines."

Sneaking a sideways glace, Vera watched as the frustration settled into Historia's features. "I doubt that plan will work," Historia retorted. "The people won't bow to a queen in name alone. They aren't that naive."

"Exactly what are you suggesting?"

As Vera listened to Historia explain her plan to win over the hearts and minds of the citizens within the walls, she couldn't help but grin to herself. It was nice to see that living for herself was working out so well for Historia; proof that it was, indeed, a satisfying way for a person to live out their days. Now, if only Vera could get it to work in her own favour so well.

Hoisting a barrel into her arms, Vera helped Mikasa stack them in the middle of the netting into one large pile. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of Eren punching himself in the face and muttering about how he was useless, immediately followed by Armin and Mikasa rushing to his side.

As much as Eren was the best chance humanity had at escaping the wrath of the Titans, he really was still an attention-seeking brat at times.

By the time the weapons had been put together and everyone had prepared the best they could in what little time they had available, the Titan had reached the wall, forcing the cannons to be aimed straight down if they had any hope at hitting their target at all.

The Titan's back and neck were littered with holes caused by impact with the hundreds of cannon shots fired its way, but the holes were superficial at best and did nothing to harm or even slow it down in the slightest. Still, it seemed as though Erwin's plan was the best chance they had.

Stopping at the base of the wall, the Titan expelled a burst of hot steam from its pores, nearly blinding the soldiers above and causing the hairs on Vera's exposed flesh to singe.

As the steam began to fade away, bringing back minimal visibility, the Titan reached up, grabbed hold on the wall with both of its large hands, and pulled itself up. Just as Erwin had predicted, the many miles of dragging its face and underbelly along the ground had done some serious damage. The Titan's face was completely flat, grated down to a cross-section of bone, muscle, blood, brain, teeth, and orifices. The stomach had been reduced to the same fate, with the skin completely rubbed away, leaving nothing but exposed ribs and internal organs—all of which began to slop out and onto the top of the wall as soon as the Titan had pulled itself upright for the first time.

By then, there was no doubt that the people of Orvud had noticed the giant, disgusting Titan looming over the district and the even more disgusting sight of its intestines draped over the edge of wall Sina.

Within seconds, the Garrison Regiment had begun retreating; having accepted the fact that their cannons had done nothing and weren't going to be of any use moving forward.

Following the lead of the other Scouts, Vera dunked a bucket into one of the many water-filled barrels and dumped the liquid over her head—a precaution that would help cool her down when coming into contact with the Titan's steam.

"Looks like we're up, Eren." Armin turned to his friend.

"Right." Eren nodded, his face a little bruised from when he had been beating the shit out of himself for whatever reason.

As everyone cleared a blast radius for Eren, the boy grinned before biting down hard on his hand and promptly transforming into his Titan form.

"All set, Commander!" Armin called.

With the homemade weapons at the ready, everyone doused in enough water that they were dripping from head to toe, and Eren ready to put his part of the plan into motion, the only step left was to actually pull the damn thing off.

With his right sleeve waving in the wind—a symbol of the strength he had to persevere despite everything he had overcome—Erwin drew a flare gun and held it above his head. "On my mark!" he shouted before pulling the trigger and firing a column of red smoke into the air. "Now!"

Pulling the triggers of the weapons Hange had created, both Armin and Sasha watched as the hooks of their barrels sunk deep into the hands of the Titan before winding themselves back up and shooting towards the appendages. Upon impact, both barrels exploded, weakening the Titan's wrists and compromising its grip on the wall.

"All right, it's losing balance!" Armin commented.

As the Titan began to flop over, smacking its head against the top of the wall in the process, Erwin called upon Eren to execute the crux of the strategy.

Emerging from the clouds of steam and smoke, Eren's Titan form rushed forward with the net of gunpowder barrels slung over its shoulder. When the Reiss Titan turned toward Eren, exposing its many unprotected orifices, Eren tossed the explosives right down its esophagus; and just as everyone had hoped, the incredible heat the Reiss Titan was already expelling was more than enough to detonate the gunpowder by itself.

As the barrels exploded inside of the Reiss Titan, its entire body exploded into hundreds of small chunks of flesh; one of which was the nape of the neck that needed to be properly destroyed to ensure the Titan was dead and gone for good.

"Go!" Erwin ordered. "Deploy your ODM gear and finish it off!"

Propelling herself into the air along with the other Scouts, Vera drew her pairing blades and got to work at slicing and dicing every chunk of meat she came across. Of course, Vera was not destined to deal the finishing blow. No, that honour was to be bestowed upon the future leader of the people, Historia Reiss.

When Historia took to the air, bright blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight and long golden locks dancing in the wind, it was obvious she was going to be the one to win this battle for humanity; and Vera watched as she did just that, just as her plan had called for.

As Historia sliced the hunk of flesh before her, a colossal explosion engulfed the sky in a flash of bright light and steam. Thrown off course by the blast, Historia landed in a merchant's cart in the streets of Orvud and was quickly surrounded by the citizens who had watched her end the Titan threat with her own two hands.

From atop a rooftop, Vera watched as Historia slowly pushed herself up and stood before the soldiers and civilians watching her. "It's okay," she assured those who were asking after her wellbeing. "My name is Historia Reiss and I am your rightful queen."

The crowd began to cheer and applaud, and when Historia looked up and locked eyes with Vera, Vera flashed a quick smile and a thumbs-up before excusing herself to let the future queen enjoy the gratitude of her people.

The battle that had begun at daybreak and lasted only a few short hours was somehow still wrapping up atop wall Sina even as the sun began to set that night and the sky had shifted to a painter's palette of blues, pinks, oranges, and yellows.

Helping scrub the wall of Titan guts was a rather dull and time-consuming task, but Vera was more than happy to occupy her mind and body with something repetitive like cleaning—even if the smell and sight made her less than happy at the same time.

"You played a rather medial part in today's battle," the low, soft voice of Levi sounded as he approached. "Nothing to write home about. No heroics. No death wish. It was all very underwhelming. Good job."

"And now I'm cleaning." Vera lazily gestured to her hard-bristled brush and section of concrete that was only minimally stained red. "I aim to please."

Levi nodded slowly before kicking the brush of out Vera's hand. "Follow me."

Without another word, Levi turned on his heel and started in the opposite direction. Vera looked back down at her discarded brush and the pool of blood that still remained before jumping to her feet and jogging to catch up with her captain.

Levi didn't say much as he rounded up a team of soldiers, secured his cloak around his shoulders, passed out rifles to everyone present, and led the rag-tag group on horseback back in the direction of Rod Reiss' estate.

With her own cloak wrapped around her body and a rifle strapped to her back, Vera rode beside Levi in silence, wondering what the heck they were doing heading back to the estate and debating if she should speak up or not.

"Kenny's like a cockroach . . . cut off his head and you'll still find him scurrying around," Levi deadpanned as if he could read Vera's mind. "I know he's out here somewhere."

Vera nodded in understanding. She didn't bother to ask why he had ordered her to tag along because, as she had come to learn, the things in Levi's head usually came to light one way or another.

Upon arrival, Levi ordered the soldiers to search the crater that was once the underground maze of chambers beneath the Reiss Chapel. Sure enough, the bodies of Kenny's crew were discovered among the rubble, but there was no sign of Kenny himself.

"No way he'd stick around." Levi started walking away from the crater as if he had a sixth sense that was leading him to Kenny. Without needing to be asked, Vera followed, her rifle in her hands and eyes peeled.

As the duo approached the edge of a small gathering of trees not big enough to be considered a forest, they spotted Kenny sitting against the trunk of a tree, blood dripping from a wound on his head, and his cowboy hat and usual spunk nowhere to be seen.

"Kenny," Levi grumbled, and instantly, Kenny's eyes shot open. He wasn't dead—not yet, at least—but he looked in pretty bad shape.

"I should have got you killed-" Kenny seethed, his sentence cut short as he began to cough up blood.

Levi didn't pay the empty threat any mind. "Found what was left of your squad. It looks like they were crushed in the cave-in. I guess you were the only survivor."

Kenny let his eyes fall shut once more. "Sure looks that way."

As the sun continued to set, casting shadows upon Kenny's face and illuminating other features, Vera could see now that he was missing the hair on the right side of his head, where it had all probably been burned off in one of the many explosions.

"Between the burns and the blood you've lost, there's nothing that can save you now," Levi told him.

Even in this state, Kenny smirked. "Oh, yeah? I wonder." He pulled out a case and opened it, revealing a single syringe and a single dose of the Titan serum. "Swiped this sucker out of Rod's bag back in the cave. Seems if I just stick myself, I'll turn into a big, strong Titan. One of the dumb ones, unfortunately. But for a while, it ought to keep me alive."

"You had the time and strength to inject yourself before we got here if you wanted," Levi said. "Why didn't you?"

"Fair point." Kenny's voice was nothing more than a harsh whisper. "I guess I'm just scared. If I don't inject it right then I might turn out the same as Rod . . . all messed-up-like."

Lowering his rifle, Levi sighed. "I know you're not just sitting here waiting to bleed to death. Surely you have a better excuse than that."

"Well, runt, the thing is, I don't feel like dying without my dream coming true. But I see now . . . after all this time, I think I see why he did it."

Vera tilted her head at the same time as Levi huffed out, "Huh?"

A weak, minuscule laugh escaped Kenny. "We humans, we're all the same. Every last one of us. For some, it's drinking. For some, it's women. For some, even religion. Family, the king, dreams, children, power. All of us had to spend our lives drunk on something, or else we'd have no cause to keep pushing on. Everyone was a slave to something . . . even him."

Vera wanted to ask who this 'him' was that Kenny kept referring to, but before she had the chance, Kenny began to sputter and more bright red blood spilled from his mouth.

"So . . . what's your poison, runt? Heroics? Something else? Someone else?" Kenny's eyes lifted slightly to look up at Levi and Vera didn't miss the way his gaze flickered between the two of them.

Having sensed the insinuation as well, Levi lunged forward and grabbed Kenny hard by the shoulders. "Kenny, tell me everything you know about the king!" He changed the subject. "The first king. Why didn't he want mankind to survive?"

"Don't know. Beats me," Kenny answered. "That said, I know that's part of the reason that we Ackermans decided to turn coat." He coughed again and blood splattered onto Levi's cheek.

Levi frowned. "So apparently, that's my name as well. Tell me, who are you? What were you to my mom?"

Kenny grinned. "You dumbass. I'm just her brother."

Vera watched the shock spread across Levi's face as he learned that Kenny, the man who had raised him, made him the man he was today, and also simultaneously ruined his life, was none other than his very own uncle; a blood relative.

"That day . . . why." The words seemed to slip past Levi's lips without him even noticing. "Why did you leave me?"

"Because I just wasn't cut out to be somebody's dad." Kenny grabbed the case with the Titan serum inside, snapped the lid shut, and thrust it into Levi's chest. Carefully, Levi took the case from him, and when he looked back up to meet Kenny's gaze, Kenny had drawn his final breath.

Nervously shifting her weight, unsure of what to say or do, Vera slung her rifle onto her back again now that the threat of Kenny attempting one last attack was no longer a possibility.

Unwilling to break the mourning silence—or whatever kind of silence this was to Levi—Vera stood quietly with her head hung and hands clasped behind her back. All this time, she had thought about what it would be like to prove that someone like Kenny couldn't get the best of her . . . to prove that he didn't know anything about her. But now, she saw it in a different light, and it was evident that Levi did as well.

In a way, Kenny and Levi's relationship reminded Vera a lot of the one she had had with her own father, both before and after he had died. Vera had spent her days trying to escape from under the shadow of the life that her father had created for her, only to find out that he had tried his best to do right by her. In fact, he had turned out to be much better than she ever could have imagined.

Of course, in the end, Kenny was a horrible man who did horrible things . . . but he wasn't all bad. He had done some good in his life, Levi being one of the primary examples.

"I'm sorry, Captain." Vera finally found her voice.

Clearing his throat, Levi stood back up from his crouched position in front of Kenny's body and shook his head. "Don't be. The world is a better place now that he's gone."

"I know," Vera acknowledged. "But I'm still sorry. Not for him, but for you."

Levi locked eyes with Vera, his stoic expression unwavering even though his grey eyes hinted at hidden emotions buried deep down that he was refusing to acknowledge. "Me?"

Instead of elaborating, Vera just smiled and lifted the hood of her green cloak over her head. "We should head back, Sir. It's going to get dark soon."

As Vera turned and started back toward the horses, she realized not everything that had come out of Kenny's mouth in his final moments had been complete nonsense. What he had said about everyone having a poison in life couldn't have been more accurate, and it was at that moment she realized what her poison was.

Vera's poison was the light feeling in her chest that she got when Levi looked at her with his dark, grey eyes. Grey eyes that seemed to see her for who she was, not what he or anyone else wanted her to be. Grey eyes that noticed every little thing she was thinking or feeling. Grey eyes that noticed her.

Never had the colour grey been so damn breathtaking.

[plainbrunettelbl]

ABO (A) Rancher Bakugo Katsuki x (O) Mail-Order-Bride Reader Train Ride to a New Life (Chapter One)

Word count: 2417

Warnings: Mentions abuse and animal abuse. 

Title: ABO (A) Rancher Bakugo Katsuki x (O) Mail-Order-Bride Reader Train Ride to a New Life (Chapter One)

Summary: You need to leave your life behind and an ad for a mail-order bride sounds like just the thing you need.

(Gif not mine) 

💥-You lived a sad life. 

💥-Your home life was less than best, your parents were both Alpha’s and they resented the fact that you presented as an Omega. You were met with harsh words and brutal punishments if you so much as knocked over a glass.

💥-It was only a few months ago when suddenly their tune changed. They were suddenly eager to have you around. Your mother had even taken up to brushing out your hair every night.

💥-As an Omega who was clearly touched starved your entire childhood you enjoyed it immensely.

💥-Even though you enjoyed it you were still put on edge. What had caused their sudden change of heart? Why was your father suddenly buying you nice dresses and ribbons when he barely spent a penny on your clothes before?

💥-You were used to the dull and slightly scratchy clothes that you wore when cleaning and cooking. They were a little well-worn but they got the job done. Your mother wouldn’t even allow you to be seen in them.

💥-She had taken to locking them up in the trunk you kept by the bed.

💥-It was only when you were dusting your father’s study that you came upon a letter. It was to the town mayor, it revealed that your father planned to sell you off to the mayor’s son.

💥-Your heart stopped in horror.

💥-You clutched the duster close to your chest, your hands nearly white. You tried not to leak out your horrified scent. You knew if they knew you had found of their plan they wouldn’t hesitate to chain you to your bed.

💥-The mayor’s son was a menacing Alpha. In your childhood, you had seen him fling rocks at the poor crows at the schoolhouse. He was quick to pick on the smaller children as well.

💥-He had bullied you but stopped after you sunk your teeth into him once. You remember his cold eyes glaring into yours as he promised that he would get you back. This was clearly his way of getting revenge.

💥-You knew all of the girls that had started courting him. His status gave him a long line of suitors but each and every one of them didn’t stay long. You had heard whispers of some of the Omega’s going back to their parent’s house with purple bruises.

💥-Once the word spread, the townspeople were a little hesitant to send their Omegas to the mayor’s opulent manor that sat on top of a hill overlooking the town.

💥-You were quick to put the letter down on your father’s desk and fled the room. That was the last of your chores for the day so you went unnoticed as you laid in your nest. trying to calm yourself, for the rest day.

💥-You needed out of this town fast.

***

💥-You had overheard stories of mail-order brides. Omegas giggling in the isles of the town store about the possibilities of finding a strong Alpha over letters. You had just came in to pick up some much-needed flour and milk.

💥-“Jane just caught a train to the south. She found herself a handsome Alpha sheriff.” One of the Omegas giggled, absolutely scandalized by the topic.

💥-“I wish I was brave enough to go on a train and ride into the unknown like that.” The other sighed, fanning a handkerchief over her face.

💥-“Oh stop! Like I don’t know you are already courting the preacher from the next town over.” The Omega pushed her friend’s shoulder playfully.

💥-The conversation had planted a seed in your mind. The notice board was posted in the back of the store. While you were grabbing the flour you might have gazed at the adverts of men wanting a mate.

💥-You also might have memorized the address of the one that caught your eye the most. It was written by a rancher who needed someone to help around the ranch while he was out all day with the cattle.

💥-His ad was short and straight to the point. He wanted an Omega who would be comfortable living a farm life. He stated that if the bride was to arrive that he was willing to wait to bond until the bride was comfortable enough.

💥-If it didn’t work out and then he would send them back, paying for the travel expenses.

💥-The ad might have been on the short and straight side but it drew you in. As soon as you got home and completed your chores you were quick to go up to your room and draft up a letter.

***

💥-You knew it was a little bold of you to do but in the very first letter, you sent him a handkerchief you had scented. Usually, that would happen after a few weeks of correspondence but you were in a rush.

💥-In the letter on your father’s desk, you read that you only had one month before the mayor would make the announcement.

💥-In his first letter to you, he had sent you a handkerchief as well. You had to pick up the letter in secret. You didn’t want your parents finding out. You had told your mother that you were going out to pick wildflowers to set the table with at dinner.

💥-She had let you go without much argument.

💥-You quickly picked up the letter at the store. You were lucky that it was the sweet daughter of the owner who stood at the counter. You knew if either he or his mate saw you that gossip was quick to spread.

💥-The daughter was quick to lock her lips after she handed you your mail. You made a mental note to be sure to bring her a batch of cookies the next time you came around. After you left the store you walked into the nearby forest.

💥-You couldn't wait and hastily found a tree trunk to sit on. Flower picking would have to come later.

💥-Once you broke the seal your nose was invaded with a cinnamon scent. It was warm and comforting. Your Omega instantly let out a soft purr. You were glad you opened the letter here rather than in your house.

💥-There was no way your parents wouldn’t have noticed the Alpha’s scent.

💥-You only allowed yourself a few more whiffs before you have to put it away. You didn’t want it rubbing off on you. You were pleased to find out that he liked your letter and he was interested in writing some more.

***

💥-After a few weeks, Bakugo already sent you your train ticket. It was both exhilarating and frightening. You had packet your bag already. It held most of your old clothes and a few of the newer dresses your parents had gotten you.

💥-You know they wouldn’t be practical to take them. You were gonna be living on a ranch after all. You secretly sold some of the more expensive ones to have money for the journey down south.

💥-With a heavy breath and beating heart, you looked at your house one last time before setting off on your trip. Your heart ached but it was better than staying here and being bonded to such a cruel Alpha.

***

💥-The journey wasn’t as exciting as you expected it. Soon the train was pulling up into the station and your new life was waiting for you by a horse and wagon. You could have picked out his scent among a crowd of people.

💥-Only a few people got off at the stop so you didn’t have to look hard. You spotted his black cowboy hat before he lifted his gaze and his crimson eyes connected with yours.

💥-You felt the air in your lungs leave you.

💥-He was truly a ruggedly handsome rancher. He looked like he didn’t play around and worked from dusk till dawn. He was quick to come towards your side and grab your bag.

💥-“I hope the train ride wasn’t much trouble. Damn things are always running into trouble nowadays.” His voice was husky, his eyes staring straight ahead as he walks to his wagon to store your suitcase.

💥-“It was quite alright.” You tried not to squeak out, your heart wouldn’t stop pounding.

💥-“That’s good.” He commented, before lifting his calloused hand up to help you onto the buggy.

💥-Your hands tingled where they touched, you held back your blush as you hop aboard. With a slight cough, you straightened out your dress before sitting.  

💥-Bakugo was quick to climb in and get the caramel-colored horse moving.

💥-“When we get back to the ranch I will carry your stuff inside and show you to the guest room. I am sure you are tired after the long trip.” He addressed, his eyes focused on the dirt road.

💥-“That sounds lovely.” You hummed, allowing yourself to sink into the wooden seat.

💥-He coughed, his eyes shifting around a bit.

💥-“I have laid a few blankets on the bed. You can pick a few and leave the ones you don’t like outside the hall.” He stumbled, a slight flush coming up on his cheeks.

💥-Your Omega was already set on bonding with him. He had already caught her heart but he still needed to catch yours.

💥-“Thank you.” You replied, giving him a small smile.

💥-“It’s nothing.” He muttered, he ushered the horse to go faster.

***

💥-Walking into the room you spotted said blankets stacked on the bed. You all but melted at the sight.

💥-“I still have some chores I need to do around the ranch. Make yourself at home. I don’t want you cooking supper tonight. It was a long journey. I will.” He informed, laying your suitcase on top of the trunk at the end of the bed.

💥-You were stunned by his statement.

💥-An Alpha, in the kitchen? Your mother didn’t even dare go near the stove. The only time you saw your father in the kitchen was when he was showing it off to guests.

💥-“O-okay.” You stuttered, still in shock.

💥-“Alright.” He nodded, before heading back downstairs and out the door.

***

💥-You sat at the dinner table looking at the steak and potatoes steaming on the plate. It looked delicious. Your mouth was starting to water.

💥-“It looks good, Alpha.” You commented, eyes still on your plate.

💥-Bakugo nearly choked on is steak at his title coming out of your mouth. He hadn’t been around a lot of Omegas so he was definitely gonna have to get used to having one around.

💥-His Alpha all but panted at keeping this sweet-smelling Omega under his roof.

💥-“Ya, well, I am used to cooking for myself so it was no trouble.” He rumbled, lift his cup to his lips, hoping the small amount of ice in it would hide his reddening cheeks.

💥-“Mmh! Maybe we should swap recipes! I can’t imagine making a steak this good.” You hummed, chewing the tender meat.

💥-You were literally trying to kill the poor Alpha. Your sweet sounds and gentle praise was enough to bring him to his knees. His Alpha was pawing at him, wanting him to bond you right this second.

💥-He shrugged his Alpha off, he said he would wait and he was a man of his word.

💥-“I am sure I could show you a few things.” He commented, swallowing his food and hoping it would distract him from your sweet form.

💥-“Sounds fun!” You beamed, taping a napkin to your face. You couldn’t help but let out a gentle purr.

💥-Lord help him.

***

💥-It had been a fun two weeks of getting to know each other. He had given you a tour of his land. It was quite breathtaking. Grassy fields as long as the eye could see.

💥-He even introduced you to his barn animals.

💥-“We have three horses as of now. Make sure to keep away from Fred over there. He likes to chew on hair.” He pointed to the black stallion.

💥-You nodded, already taking a step away from the animal.

💥-“We have a few hens. If you would like, one of your chores could be harvesting the eggs in the morning.” He offered, his eyes looking at his small hen house.

💥-You were dressing in one of your fancier gowns and he was having a hard time to keep his eyes to himself. Your hair was down it flowed beautifully around your face.

💥-You were shined brighter in the sunlight. He knew he could grow old looking into those eyes.

💥-“I think I can do that.” You agreed, peering over the fence that held the feathery animals.

💥-“Good.” He had a small smile, enjoying the wonder on your face.

***

💥-You thought it was time to make your intentions clear. You had felt comfortable in the Alpha’s presence and didn’t want to leave his side anytime soon. You could see yourself raising pups in this house and wanted to make sure he knew that too.

💥-So you thought up a plan.

💥-Dressed in only your nightgown you made your way to his bedroom door. Hopefully, it would be your bedroom too if it went well. You gently knocked on the door.

💥-You hoped he wasn’t already asleep.

💥-You heard heavy footsteps making there way to the door. Your heart fluttering at each step. He pulled the door open.

💥-“Is something wrong, Omega?” He peered down at you. His Alpha lifting his head.

💥-“I wanted to know if I could have one of your pillows, for my nest.” You shuffled your feet, not brave enough to look at his eyes but instead looked at his eyebrows.

💥-You noticed them shoot up in surprise.

💥-He stood up straighter his eyes admiring your flush cheeks and soft face. This was finally happening. He longed for a mate for so long. Being a rancher was a lonely life but now he was gonna be sharing it with you.

💥-“Of course, Omega.” He walked to his bed a plucked the plumpest looking one off it.

💥-He made sure his arm wasn’t shaking when he passed it over to you.

💥-“Thank you, Alpha.” You chirped, deciding to do something bold.

💥-Quick on your feet you lifted yourself to meet his cheek and placed a kiss there. You were quick to retreat to your room after that. You left your stunned Alpha in the hall. 

Ah! I was so nervous writing this. I haven’t come across any fics like this. The only other one that was kinda similar was in the Marvel universe and it wasn’t mail order bride based. 

I hope you guys like it. Thoughts? I can totally see myself writing for this AU again.💕💕  

[justmidnightthougts]

Not so boring // Bokuto x reader

Pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x reader

Word count: 1684

Warning: fluff

Summary: You and Bokuto both have a scheme to decide where you go on dates. When it was finally your turn again you decide to go to your dream place, which Bokuto didn't expect.

masterlist: here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧

Weekend.

One of the few things high schoolers look forward to in a school year. Those two days are spent by teenagers hanging out with each other or as the time for others to recharge their batteries before another week starts. Today it was Saturday, the first day of the weekend. If it was a normal Saturday, you would spend your time hanging out with your best friend or recharging your social battery, but not today. Today was the long-awaited day. Your date with your boyfriend Bokuto Koutarou. The whole week you were excited for Saturday, with the consequences that you barely paid attention to class, not as if you did that much anyway.

You've been together with Bokuto for about 1 year and 3 months now, having confessed feelings to each other after Fukorodani won one of their practice games against Nekoma. The confession consisted of two people, each nervous to be turned down by their crush to end up holding a celebration party in their head. Bokuto cheered loudly, saying his signature "HEY HEY HEY" as he held his arms in the air, beaming. You were a little calmer on the outside and just enjoyed his reaction, cheering inside your own head.

Dating someone like Bokuto was an overwhelming experience. Even before you two started dating you knew what Bokuto was like, since you were friends before you both confessed to each other. You knew that he had an emo mode and huge mood swings, but that didn't mean that you loved him less. Just like he loved every part of you, you loved every part of him. Both his personality and body of course, which was sculpted by the Gods in your opinion. At school he would come up to you during breaks, hugging you until he has to leave. One time you asked him why he always hugged you: "Because I need to recharge before I have class again" was his simple explanation. After school you watched him practice unless you had other stuff to do. If that was the case, he just found another way to spend time with you after practice. Study dates happened a lot during the weekend too. Those dates are spent with the both of you working on your homework, you help him out when he doesn't understand something, and he helps you out or at least tries to help you out. Those dates end with a cuddle session on your bed while watching a movie, most likely a comedy movie or one from your childhood, since they never get old.

A little further in your relationship you also found out several ways to help Bokuto out with his emo mode. Either way, you cheered him on and praised him if he was in a game, or just you gave him forehead kisses and hugs, that method really paid off several times.

Anyway, today you finally had a date again with him since he has been busy preparing for the nationals. At the start of your relationship, you both decided that one-time Bokuto chooses what you do on a date, and the other time you choose. Today it was your turn, and you knew exactly what you wanted to do.

"So~ what have you planned to do today?" Bokuto asked you with curious eyes as you both were walking down the street, holding hands, and drinking the coffee that you bought on the way.

"That's a surprise Bo" you chuckled watching his curious expression turn into a pouting one as if he was a child that didn't get his ice cream. You heard him huff and shook your head, rolling your eyes even though there was a smile on your face. "Don't worry, we are almost at our destination, so you don't have to wait too long," you said with a smile on your face as you threw your empty cup away.

Bokuto looked at you and pouted a little more before sighing and nodding, smiling again: "Alright! Then I'll just have to trust my lover then! I'm sure that you planned something fun," he said proudly following you and throwing his cup away. Only if he knew...

A few minutes later the both of you arrived at the destination and his expression turned blank. You started laughing at that, clutching your stomach. How you wish to just take a picture of his expression. After a few minutes, you calmed down and wiped your tears away from the laughing, and looked at the large building in front of you. For this date, you decided to go to a new library in the city. You heard from one of your friends that it really was worth visiting. They told you that it looked like those libraries that are described in fantasy books. You already love reading so you are sure that you would've visited it nonetheless, but that fact just made you even more curious.

"So...the date you organized is going to the library?" Bokuto asked you calmly as he kept looking at the building, the defeat clear on his face.

You nodded: "yes that is true" you looked at him and grabbed his hand. "c'mon don't be like that Bo, I promise you that it's going to be fun!" you said with a smile, pulling him with you to the entrance, even though that was easier said than done. Bokuto gave a long-defeated sigh before following you, mumbling stuff like "books are boring" or "we could've easily just cuddled all day". You knew that he wasn't a fan of reading books for a long time, but you really wanted to come here and share this experience with him. You made a mental note to tell him that later.

From the moment you entered the building stars lit up in your eyes. It really was like a library straight from your fantasy books. Huge shelves full of books organized in their own different categories, with tables standing at the end of the hallways. Ladders for if you wanted to reach a book that was a little higher. Huge windows for natural sunlight, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. You swore that you could stay here for days, if not for months.

You glanced towards your boyfriend who was just like you mesmerized by the scenery in front of him. Once he caught sight of you glancing at him, he went back to your sulking boyfriend, not wanting to give you the victory that you longed for yet. You chuckled and then walked further into the library, looking up at the signs of each hallway, searching for the fantasy book. You spotted horror, comedy, romance, fiction, and then finally fantasy. You hummed happily and entered the hallway, looking with amazed eyes at all the books stored there. while searching for a book to read your eyes fell on one with a golden title. "The Cruel Prince", you've heard from that book but never really got the chance to read it since your bookshelves at home were currently full.

While you read the description, you failed to notice the way Bokuto looked at you. Even if the both of you have been dating for more than a year now, you were still hesitant when it came to talking about all your passions. He knew that you might be afraid of how he would react so he understood that it may take time for you to express his passions the way he did, and he will wait until you are ready. But now he saw the way you looked at those books and a warm feeling filled him. He may have been repulsive about the idea of this date, but now he may get why you brought him here and he doesn't regret coming here. He didn't pay attention to the books and only watched your gleeful expression while you held that book.

He walked to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind while looking over your shoulder at the book that is taken all your attention. You glanced at him and smiled, pecking his cheek: "Did you already find a book Bo?" you asked him curiously and he huffed, shaking his head: "no, books are boring" he whined softly, knowing that he needs to be quiet in the library and honestly not wanting to feel the wrath of the others in here for disturbing their peace.

You rolled your eyes and then looked at the books before taking a book with the name "A thousand pieces of you" and handed it to him. "I know you don't like books, but you should at least try, maybe you'll find it fun even if it's only a little bit. If you still don't like it after 30 minutes then we will leave" you said with a smile, giving him that promise before making your way to one of the tables and sitting down in the surprisingly comfortable chairs with the book in your hand.

Bokuto looked at you and nodded, taking the book. "Only because you asked me to" he mumbled and followed you like a puppy. He sat down and inspected the cover of the book cautiously before turning it and reading the description. Bo opened the book and started reading, grumbling softly, you chuckling when you hear him.

You were a few chapters in your book when you realized that he wasn't making any noises anymore. You turned your head, half expecting him to be asleep, and were surprised when you saw him, focused in his book, or more like mesmerized by the storyline of the book. You wanted to say something but decided not to, opting to enjoy the silence and comfort that came from this.

Maybe coming to this library is not as boring as he thought that it would be. He was kind of excited and curious about the other passions that you didn't tell him yet. He was also excited to love you more in the years that will come.

[chowtrolls]

Inferno

Length: 2155 Words TW: General Violence, brief mention of drugs. Brief: Boe causes problems for Bruuno. Credits: there's a reference to the Divine Comedy.

Google Docs

Bruuno knew the office building like the back of his hand. Walking in through the back cargo entrance was the easiest way in. The violet guard had basically watched Bruuno grow up and actually smiled as he passed. He towered over the violet at this point but always felt a small connection to the stranger, and made a point of smiling back. The elevator complained loudly when Bruuno stepped inside. The elevator only had twelve buttons. The thirteenth button was disguised as the emergency alarm. It was muscle memory by now, Bruuno held the alarm as it rang for fourty five seconds. The alarm stopped and the elevator started to go up.

It opened into a dimly lit hallway. Expensive art decorated the walls, each painting in the same exact spot as it had been the first time Bruuno walked past them. They always had a way of making him feel small. Chilly air encouraged him to stuff his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The secretary was gone, but the door to Boe's office was unlocked, so Bruuno invited himself inside.

"Hello, Bruuno. Always a treat to see you. How are you? It's been ages." Boe's voice filled the silence immediately. The jade had been waiting, standing in the center of his wide office. He always spoke too much. Despite being spoken to, Bruuno instantly knew something was wrong. There was a deafening silence. More notably, there was no fuchsia wriggler jumping up and bodyslamming him while laughing.

"Where's Shi?" Bruuno turned to the jade with a look of confusion. Boe's relaxed smile planted a seed of worry in the fuchsia's chest. His shoulders lifted slightly in a nonchalant shrug, as if they were discussing the location of a book and not a child.

"She's safe." Boe's voice, smooth as silk and honey, did nothing to ease the growing concern.

"I didn't ask if she was safe." Bruuno stepped closer to Boe, brow furrowed, "I asked where she was."

"And I asked how you were. You've been clean for a while, isn't that nice?" Boe closed the gap between him and his former charge. Bruuno's intimidation attempt went entirely ignored, the jade was seemingly unafraid of anything Bruuno may do. Boe's hands left his pockets so he could straighten the fuchsias' jacket, closing it slightly. "Your little moirails helped with that, right? Awfully sweet of them. You really owe them one."

"I don't owe anyone shit." Bruuno didn't stop Boe from touching him, but made no effort to hide the hostility in his voice. "Boznik, where is Shiloh?"

"Mmm, wrong there buddy. You still owe me." Boe smiled and patted Bruuno's chest, knowingly ignoring the constant pestering over Shiloh. Bruuno's expression must have been blatantly confused once again, because Boe laughed. The jade turned away from the conversation, walking over to his desk. He straightened out some papers as he continued.

"I only let you go because you became a liability. Became sloppy! Messy! Hard to fix your mistakes. You must've thought you were so smart, blaming that pesky little addiction problem on your matesprit. I knew what you were doing, Bru. You're not as clever as you think you are." Boe snickered softly as he spoke. Normally an unprofessional move, but Boe didn't care too much for the formalities when it came to his former charge. "I saw what you did to that other little fish, Klasha's brother. Both arms! Impressive! Ripped them off like they were nothing! Now Bruuno, that is the man I raised." Boe paused and looked up from his desk. Bruuno's silence was deafening as the horror started to sink in.

"I let you have your little fun. I helped you, even. You got to have your fifteen minutes of fame. You seadwellers live for so long...it really was just fifteen minutes out of that ancient lifespan of yours. And be honest with yourself Bru, who do you think helped you get there?" Boe's voice got softer, near a whisper, "I spared your life. I gave you fame. I let you have this glorious little life. And now you have to pay me back."

Each word that left Boe's mouth was a dash of salt on the ever growing wound. Anger started like milk on the stove, it always did. Slowly and slowly heating. One had to keep their eye on the pot every second it was there. It was so easy to just glance away for a moment, but doing so would cause the entire pot to boil over. Bruuno's anger was the same, growing slowly and unchecked until the pot boiled over and the contents burned everything around it.

"I never fuckin' asked you to spare me." Speaking between his teeth did little to hide the venom dripping from his voice. "I would've fuckin' preferred you didn't. But I didn't get a fuckin' say in any of this." Bruuno's fins pressed down flat like a cornered cat's ears.

"Well, that's unfortunate." Boe's smirk faded into an unamused frown. Any normal troll would've thought twice about being alone in a room with such a furious highblood. Boe knew better than anyone how catastrophic highblood rage could be. And yet, he stood before Bruuno, cool as a cucumber, collected as ever. He knew in his heart that Bruuno was a pushover, too soft to cause problems or stir the pot. Boe knew the troll he raised, how could he not?

Just as Boe knew Bruuno would never hurt him, Bruuno knew the jade would never harm Shiloh. There was an unspoken line between them that neither would dare to cross. Shiloh happened to stand directly on that line. Despite his rage, Bruuno knew Shiloh would be fine. She was most likely with Chowow, or Kamuuk, and they just hadn't told him. She certainly hadn't a single clue what was going on. Good, because this wasn't about her. His anger was less about Shiloh, and more the sheer audacity. The gall that Boe possessed to even dream of having that control over Bruuno's life. As the two stared each other down, Boe felt safe. Secure. He was certain that Bruuno would bend to his whim. After all, the fuchsia seemed to bend however someone wanted him to, why would he do any differently to Boe?

Boe's sense of security held Bruuno in his place. He felt small, smaller than he ever had in his entire life, because he knew what Boe thought of him. A passive troll who simply wishes to please everyone, who has no self worth beyond what he can present to others. He had done so much to get to where he was in life. Even if Boe really WAS pulling the strings, Bruuno was happy. He was genuinely happy with his life, the path he was heading down. For the first time in sweeps, Bruuno finally felt like he was healing. He no longer lamented over the torment he caused others, and the days spent awake wondering if karma would present itself with glittery fins once more seemed rare now. The pot of anger had boiled over moments ago, and was starting to burn in Bruuno's chest. One can never remember pain, brains aren't programmed to remember pain, but the raw burning in his lungs was so painstakingly familiar. It was an infection he covered up so well he started to believe it was really gone. An infection he had for so long that he almost felt empty when he covered it that well. Now that the anger fought through the makeshift gauze of happiness, Bruuno realized he missed it, in the same way someone misses a toxic friend or a migraine they had for too long. It had become a piece of him.

Bruuno remembered snippets from working under Boe, but more importantly he remembered how much he hated it. He hurt so many trolls for no reason beyond being told to. He was taught how to hold a gun before he was taught how to write. He learned the best methods of a hidden execution before he learned how to cook. The best took for pulling fingernails, pressure points to incapacitate someone, the direction to aim a weapon so it looked like an accident. From the best cleanup crew to call, to the safest places to dump a body, and the best excuses to tell a drone. Everything Boe taught him centered around pain and violence. Destroy lives and cause destruction for the sake of money and power. Breaking bones and shooting trolls at point blank did nothing but cause anxiety and depression, and created the insecurity that allowed Bubble to seep into his life like a virus. Bruuno was never happy with who he was or what he was doing. Who was Boe to decide if Bruuno got to be happy or not? Only Bruuno could decide that.

And Bruuno decided that he did deserve to be happy. That he didn't deserve this; not from Boe, or Bubble, Carina, the Empire, Shrivo, anyone else. He was worthy of being happy. And he didn't need to make himself valuable to others to be worthy of it.

By the time Bruuno had come to this mental conclusion, Boe had started and nearly finished another cheesy and demented monolog. He strolled right up to Bruuno once more, chattering away while folding some boring origami crane. At the end, he just crumpled the crane up in a dramatic show of power. It was apparent that he thought of himself as some kind of villain, that the hero in this story would do as every hero does. No hero would ever harm the villain, because that'd make them equal and just as evil.

But Bruuno was not Aeneas, nor was he Paul. There was hardly anything heroic about him.

"So, you see my point, Bru? Just a pawn in the game of life. An important pawn to some, sure. But you, too, can be so easily crushed." Boe's smile was sinister, but frankly Bruuno found it annoying. The burning anger had created the desire, no, the need to destroy, to break things.

The fuchsia silently looked at the crumpled paper in Boe's palm. After a moment, he gingerly took the crane from Boe. It was so small in his hand, so fragile, but he still craved to demolish it. Boe's smile returned, obviously pleased that his words stuck with his charge. That was, until Bruuno dropped the crane without a care and instead grabbed onto Boe's robotic wrist with one hand, and the opposite shoulder with his free hand. Without hesitating, Bruuno destroyed. He tore Boe's arm off, just as he had done with Meduza. The prosthetic came off like a breeze, but it was obviously never meant to, permanent prosthetics are so expensive and difficult to replace so they were secured in the socket so neatly. There was nothing neat about it now. Boe's expression was horrified. If he made a sound, Bruuno didn't hear it. All he heard was the crumbling of metal and the tear of flesh. The prosthetic may have been sturdy once but it bent and folded under the pressure of Bruuno's closing fist. The jagged parts of the metal cut his hand but the pain was a welcomed feeling, grounding almost.

The arm dropped unceremoniously to the floor, and Boe did too. Jade started to pool under him and stained his white button down. Boznik tried to prop himself up and move away, but was pushed back down by Bruuno's foot.

The weight of an 8 foot fuchsia on his chest was nothing compared to the weight of the trauma that hovers over Bruuno's heart constantly.

"How's that fer the man you raised? Still like 'im?" Bruuno's expression was deadpan as he spoke, with just enough weight on Boe's chest to hurt. "A real fuckin' asshole, ain't he? Takes after his lusus. Y'know how it is. Like lusus like son, eh?" A bitter laugh escaped, and only grew louder as more pressure was applied. Bruuno heard and felt a couple cracks, the pain being confirmed by Boe's strangled gasp of pain.

Boe was no stranger to pain, but the crushing weight on his chest and white hot burning from his arm had him fading in and out. Breathing was difficult, but not impossible, and was instantly better as Bruuno got off his former lusus.

"I hope we both rot, ya daft fuckin' jackass. Don't try this shit again." Bruuno wasn't certain if Boe even heard him, but he felt better saying it out loud.

He made sure to hit the emergency alarm on Boe's desk before he left out the way he came. The violet security guard was still at his post by the cargo entrance. The radio on his vest was going off with frantic chatter as Bruuno passed him.

He made sure to smile on his way out.

[clumsyclifford]

i can’t focus when you’re with me (i can’t sleep when i’m alone)

hello i wrote some jalex because i had XO by nightly stuck in my head and this came from that

thank you @tirednotflirting and @reveriesofawriter for the love i love you guys so much all the time

title from XO by nightly

read it here on ao3

-

It’s on a pink sticky note on the fridge.

back soon. xo

The sign-off is familiar. The sticky note is also familiar, though Alex doesn’t really see why Jack leaves them anymore. There’s no point to the sticky note when Alex already knows Jack will be back and is no closer to figuring out his system for deciding when. Maybe there is no system. Maybe he truly just appears whenever he feels like it. 

Alex knows about variable-ratio reward schedules; he knows how the lottery works, promising an eventual reward and paying up just often enough to maintain the ruse. He isn’t an idiot. He can understand he’s not really winning the lottery when he spends every single night wondering if this will be the one Jack decides to grace him with his presence. One victory is nothing when it’s borne of a thousand failures. But Alex will take one night with Jack for two weeks without, and Jack knows that, too.

So maybe Alex is an idiot, but it’s worth it to be. Nights spent with Jack are some of Alex’s favorites. Mornings waking up without him are just an occupational hazard.

Jack doesn’t belong to him. That was never part of the agreement.

The spontaneity of Jack’s visits also cause a lot of problems in Alex’s life. He can’t plan his work around Jack when Jack has no schedule. And if Jack shows up while Alex is in the middle of something, forget it. As soon as the lock clicks and the door swings open — as soon as Alex hears the familiar footsteps and the toneless humming of Jack’s entrance — everything else becomes static.

It’s distracting. It’s infuriating. It’s intoxicating.

A cool breeze edging on warm sweeps through Alex’s open window tonight. He has a textbook open on the desk and his laptop beside it. The contents of the textbook are entirely failing to stick in Alex’s brain, and he doubts taking notes is helping in any way. It’s important that he learn this, especially when they’re moving on so swiftly from this section of the material; Alex can already foresee the late night he’s going to have trying to reteach this chapter to himself once he finishes reading it.

Three excruciating pages later, Alex decides the textbook can wait for a cup of tea.

It’s quiet around Alex’s place as he treks into the kitchen to put the water on. It’s quiet more often than not these days, as Alex has gotten more and more entrenched in his coursework. He’s had less time to play music. When he has free hours now, he typically uses them to sleep. It’s not an exciting life, but it’s the one he needs to lead so he doesn’t collapse from exhaustion at any given moment.

Still, the staticky hiss from the kettle as it starts to boil is comforting. Alex leans against the counter with his eyes closed, somehow simultaneously trying to refresh his memory on everything he just spent two and a half hours reading and trying not to think about that. As much as he knows he needs a break from all the studying, he’s not sure he can really afford it.

Naturally, this is when the lock clicks and the humming starts.

Alex’s eyes fly open. He stares out across the kitchen. The kettle finally reaches a loud conclusion and clicks to let Alex know it’s officially done boiling the water. And through the open doorway, an off-key rendition of ‘American Idiot’ announces Jack’s presence.

He’s humming the guitar solo. Of course.

Warring parts of Alex’s brain fight to react to this unexpected arrival. He wants to groan, because this is the worst time Jack could have fucking chosen, on tonight of all nights. He’d like to spin Jack by the shoulders and push him back out the door where he’d come in before he gets too comfortable. Sorry, not tonight, too much stuff to do that I can’t afford to let you distract me from, he’d love to say.

But the other part of him is imagining pushing Jack by the shoulders against a very much closed door, and Alex, in his weary state, isn’t disciplined enough to ignore that thought. 

Jack won’t come into the kitchen —  he says it’s too domestic for him. Alex pretends he hasn’t heard the door open and close and makes himself a cup of tea anyway, fully prepared for it to go cold. Maybe Jack will understand if Alex lays it out for him. Maybe if Jack sees the textbook he’ll latch on.

Not that Alex thinks Jack doesn’t understand how much work Alex has. Jack is an intelligent person. He knows. It’s just he doesn’t care. 

And Alex has to take some responsibility, because it’s not like he’s trying very hard to express that it matters to him if he passes his classes. When Jack shows up, Alex gives up. He could try harder to focus on his work, to send Jack away, but he doesn’t want to. He likes when Jack is here. He’d just like it not to overlap with nights when he has an entire textbook chapter to read, memorize, and internalize.

Steam is rising off Alex’s mug like wispy cirrus clouds. He brings it to his lips, burns his tongue taking a sip, and sighs.

Jack is sitting in Alex’s desk chair when Alex finally returns to his room.

He looks up with bright eyes when he sees Alex come in. “Hi, finally.” As he clocks the mug: “Ooh, whatcha drinkin’? Did you make me any?”

“Tea, and no,” Alex says. “I made it for me, because I’m trying to study.”

“Operative word being try,” Jack says.

“Yeah, and hopefully soon I will be succeeding,” Alex says. He’s not sure why he insists on pretending to refuse Jack when they both know with one hundred percent certainty that this is not what Alex wants nor a hill he plans to die on. For his own dignity, though, he has to at least look like he’s making the effort to be responsible. “You wanna learn about childrens’ development in their first year of life?”

“Such a hard no from me,” Jack says. “But be real. Do you want to learn about that?”

“No,” Alex says. “But I have to.”

Jack sighs. He holds out a hand and Alex places his mug in Jack’s grip. “What’s this? The usual?” Alex nods. Jack brings it to his lips, barely drinking any before exhaling harshly. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

“Yeah, I just made it. As you came in.”

“You want me to go?”

Alex sighs. “Obviously I don’t want you to go. I’d love to get some advance notice for when you’re gonna show up, though. Tonight’s such a bad night.”

“Tonight’s a bad night so far,” Jack corrects him, setting the mug down on Alex’s desk. It’s dangerously close to the laptop; Alex nudges it further away, and Jack just shakes his head a little, smiling.

“I mean tonight is a bad night for you to be here,” Alex clarifies.

“Then I’ll leave.”

“But I don’t want you to leave.”

“So I’ll stay.”

“Yeah, but then I’ll be distracted.”

Jack shrugs. “I’m honestly okay with that.”

“I’ll be distracted from my work,” Alex says, although he’s sure Jack had understood the first time. “By you. Like always.”

“And I’m okay with that too.” Jack tilts his head, stretching his neck to look up at Alex, deliberately baring his throat. He drives Alex insane, in whatever way is most accurate to the moment. Alex wishes he had more self-control, but thinking about turning Jack away and instead spending several more hours at a desk reading page after page of information he won’t absorb makes him want to cry. 

And it would be rude, after all this time, to mess with the rules of the game. Jack shows up expecting that Alex will surrender, and Alex being taken aback and generally inconvenienced by this is all part of the guidelines for playing. He signed his agency away the first time he kissed Jack against the door. It’s too late to ask for it back.

(It’s not really too late — if Alex wanted it, he’d have it. He just doesn’t want it.)

Alex holds up one finger and with his other hand he lifts the mug to his lips. It’s still too hot to drink but he lets the liquid scald the tip of his tongue and the roof of his mouth as he swallows. 

“You could call me,” he says.

“I don’t have your number,” Jack says.

“You could ask for it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“It’d make my life a lot easier.”

“But way less exciting.” Jack stands up, and he’s taller than Alex, and he’s so close now that Alex can count his eyelashes as they flutter shut and then quickly open again. “You can’t plan for everything, Alex.”

“Okay, I realize that, but I could definitely plan for you,” Alex returns. “Like if you just told me when you wanted to come over I could plan for that to happen. Instead of just appearing out of nowhere and—”

“What, ruining your night?” Jack casts his gaze to the open textbook. He looks back at Alex, quietly smirking. “I’m so sorry for distracting you from the absolutely fascinating timeline of child development.”

“Yeah, you should be.”

“Alex, this is a rescue mission.” Jack’s fingers land feather-light on Alex’s wrist and travel up his arm, pushing his sleeve up to his shoulder and bracing against the slope of his neck. His grip tightens as he massages the tense muscles under his fingertips. “I’m like your guardian angel. I show up when I can tell you need saving.”

“Saving from the horrors of developmental psychology?” Alex mutters, posture slipping like a landslide. Nobody on the planet can ease the tension permanently at home in Alex’s shoulders, but Jack is welcome to try. 

“Yes,” Jack says seriously. “From the horrors of developmental psychology. And because I can literally feel the tension in your shoulders. When’s the last time you relaxed?”

Last time you were here, is Alex’s real answer. “I’m not clear on the relevance of this.”

Jack frowns. “I don’t want you to be stressed.”

“Then stop showing up out of the blue,” Alex huffs.

“Really? I’m the biggest stressor in your life?" Jack sounds genuinely incredulous at this.

“No, you’re not.” Alex sighs, looking anywhere except Jack’s face. “But you’re not not a stressor. You know I’m busy. You know I like to have a schedule. A little warning goes a long way.”

Jack is quiet for a moment. His fingers dig into Alex’s skin, working muscles that ache under his firm touch. It feels improbably good for something that kind of hurts. Alex closes his eyes.

“Forget I said that,” he mumbles. “We’re not gonna get anywhere. I’ve made my peace with it. You’re just going to be absolutely unpredictable and I’m just gonna be fine with it, I guess, because I like when you’re here, even if you never want to tell me when that’s going to be. It’s fine.”

Jack’s hands still. “I just think you’re overthinking it. I’m not complicated, Alex. I’m so easy. This is easy. If it were that important to you, you would kick me out, and I’d go. But you never do.” He resumes his massage, this time on the back of Alex’s neck. “You’re always working. And I’m here on a rescue mission, like I said. To keep you from drowning in it. It’s just a question of if you’re willing to be rescued.”

Alex groans. Even he’s not sure if it’s from the frustration of knowing he won’t get through anything else tonight or an effect of Jack’s halfway massage, though he figures it’s probably both. They’ve exhausted this topic and they’re making no progress. Alex is out of patience.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “Rescue me.”

Jack’s warm hands move to Alex’s face, and he’s still smiling a little bit when their lips meet.

The sticky note is gone from the fridge. Alex is not surprised. 

Sleep is still clinging to him, weighing from every limb. There’s a stiffness in his neck that has returned from wherever Jack apparently banished it to last night. Out the window, a blanket of clean morning light covers everything it can reach. Inside, a blanket is still dragging on the floor around Alex’s shoulders.

It’s when he’s reaching for the kettle that he remembers his cup of tea.

The blanket drags behind him as Alex treks back to his room, and there he halts in confusion. The mug is gone. He’d definitely left it here last night, and now it’s not here anymore. It had been completely full and now it’s missing.

Huh.

Alex glances at the textbook, open to exactly the page he’d left it at the night prior. There’s a pink sticky note he’d failed to notice earlier.

good luck, this seems boring as hell. xo

p.s. put your tea in the fridge xoxo

A smile crawls into the corners of Alex’s mouth and stays there.

He returns to the kitchen and finds his mug of tea in the fridge, as promised. There’s aluminum foil over the top, which seems pointless but a nice gesture. A confusingly nice gesture. Why is Jack changing the rules of the game all of a sudden? It’s unusual for him to move anything around, for him to leave any indication of his presence other than one single sticky note stuck somewhere for Alex to find.

Now, not only has he moved Alex’s tea, but there’s another sticky note. Alex finds it on top of the mug.

you’re cute when you sleep. xo

Alex stares at the piece of paper until his fridge starts beeping at him that the door has been open too long. He pulls the mug from the fridge and closes it. And then he stares some more. What is happening? What is Jack doing? Is this just going to be another new rule to which Alex is oblivious?

As the microwave reheats last night’s tea — Alex wondering as it spins how Jack had known that Alex is the kind of person to reheat the tea rather than toss it and make a new cup — Alex shuffles into the bathroom to splash some water on his face and deem himself presentable for the day.

And there, on the bathroom mirror, is another pink sticky note.

It reads:

I want to make your life easier. no pressure. xo

Underneath the words, there’s a phone number.

Alex smiles.

[nayarablueglasses]

Duo x male reader

a/n: oh gods this is so. anyways this was meant for day thirteen of the @gundam-wing-pride event but certain circumstances have caused me to be unable to post in time for it. the tears prompt was kept in mind for this, i hope it suffices.

word count: 2,059

summary: horrific battles never made you cry, so how did a joke from Duo manage to do it?

warnings: reader is in an active war at first, brief mentions of reader becoming deaf to loud sounds after the battle, reader has a very dry way of thinking, i haven't seen the entirety of the show in ages so i think my timeline is a little messed up

reader pronouns: he/him but comes off as gn

How’d you end up here?

You’d woken up to the extremely jarring sounds of the space station’s evacuation alarms. Considering the immediate panicking masses of people that then flooded the streets, it wasn’t the best way to wake up. Especially when you factor in that your first evacuation drill since the ‘safe space’ had been rebuilt, relocated and refortified was supposed to happen next week. Though to be fair, there were absolutely no signs that you knew of that would signal a a war erupting on your colony.

Honestly? You never were impressed by the Gundams. All you knew about them was that they were starting a war with what a few of the colonies had begun to call the “colony rebels.” The White Fang. Maybe the White Fang had started the war, but you could care less. No matter who’d started this, the colonies- your colony- was caught in the crossfires now.

And it wasn’t like you could trust the Gundams, either. It wasn’t that long ago that Gundam Pilot 04 almost blew up an entire colony because their father had been killed. If that was how the Gundams handled personal loss, your colony could only speculate on the ways they’d deal with the political difficulties of a war. And unsurprisingly, it turned out that they handled it absolutely terribly.

The scariest part was the absolute absurdness of the whole war. Two sides that claimed to speak for the colonies. The White Fang pressed attention on the colonies, while the Gundams remained an absolute mystery. Plus, the individual power struggles claiming the colonies, the Treize Faction war against Oz that was reportedly occuring back on Earth... everybody was misinformed about absolutely all of it, and the best you could do was try to make sense of the chaos unfolding and hope it never touched your poor colony.

But wishes don’t always come true. And certainly never the wishes you make.

Like the wish you’d been repeating back to yourself for the last hour- to be able to come out of this unscathed. Your arm had some thoughts on that.

As it turns out, trying to run through an active warzone to the safe space you didn’t know the location of was extremely dangerous. So dangerous that your arm had been hit with a stray bullet. Right now the main dangers were the footsoldiers firing at each other, but not that far off in the distance you could see two of the Gundams fighting a swarm of Taruses. The fact that they weren’t close was anything but comforting, since you’d seen the speed of the Gundams before on T.V.

Oh.

“Hey- get outta the way! Ya try’na get killed?” A White Fang footsoldier shoved you to the side, presumably trying to help. Instead you stumbled facedown into a very large pile of scrap metal. Which very much hurt your arm and effectively trapped your leg as well.

Fun. “The fuck kinda horror movie is this?” You muttered to yourself. Of course, of course you ran directly into the fray. Because of COURSE that was safer than the opposite direction (which in all fairness had been covered in sharp-looking rubble). That’s fine. You could work with this. What did your uncle usually tell you- take inventory in terms of crises?

You hadn’t brought a backpack with you, so, all you could take inventory on was what was in your pockets. One elastic, a single outdated coin, and fuzz. Plus, a bleeding arm and the bullet you figured was still in there, a possibly twisted and hopefully not broken foot, ringing in your ears... and the clothes on your back. Ok.

So this is how you die? Fine. That’s fucking fine. You had plenty to live for, but fine. Who cares?

“Woah-hoh, what the hell? Hey- hey handsome, you awake?”

A very neon green light pierced your consciousness. Out of habit, you tried to raise your arm to block it out- and then an even more painful, piercing feeling jolted through your whole body. “Ahh-huah- ‘m. ‘m awake now. Ohhh gods. Yeah. ‘m- yeah. Fuck. Who’re you and are you going to help me or kill me?”

“Kill you? Man, I might be the god of Death and all but I’m not going to kill you! You related to Heero or somethin’?”

“Don’t know- ow- who the fuck that is. What’s up with that green light shit> ‘M gonna be blinded if I open my eyes.”

And there the light went. Nice. If this guy didn’t kill you, you might actually survive. Sans your arm. Nobody on your colony could help your arm. You figured that life would be interesting from now on. “Great, thanks man. Fuuuuck. You- you see my arm? Yeah- I’m taking your silence as a yeah. This bitch’s fucked and moving at all is very very painful. So hey random stranger. You strong enough to carry me to the nearest amputator?”

Apparently you were just being dramatic. Your arm would 100% be still attached and your foot would survive. Your ears were… fine. After waking up in a hospital on an entirely different colony station, you learned that apparently, there exists a kind of deaf in which it was hard to hear things that were too loud. Which. You now had.

No more concerts. Meh.

The most jarring of everything was when you discovered that a) you were likely to have either trauma or ptsd and b) the guy that carried you to the hospital in his Gundam- was a Gundam Pilot. 02. Duo Maxwell. He’d brought you to Colony 14 Blue and was now reportedly “chillin’ outside until you get discharged.” with the promise that he’d bring you to the Peacemillion afterwards.

Oh. And almost everybody you knew closely had “likely” passed away in the attack. The therapy for that was going to be interesting when you consider that nobody of your family was on the colony at the time of the attack. Honestly the way they were pressing for you to be evaled made it feel like they were planning to make an example out of your supposedly poor mental state. Unsurprisingly the hospital was being run by the White Fang.

Discharge went quickly. The ride back to Duo’s Deathscythe went quickly. The ride in Duo’s Deathscythe went far, far too slowly. And adjusting to life on the Peacemillion went poorly.

Every now and again, Duo would look for you and, if he hadn’t immediately come from a fight (he passed out on your carpet once due to blood loss after being in a gunfight. Zechs was less than appreciative.), he’d bring you to the nearest colony. Being able to enjoy a day out on occasion was a rarity you usually only got to experience with Duo.

“Ooooi, Duo. Check these out. Tell me these aren’t the coolest gloves you’ve ever seen.” You held up some black fingerless gloves for him to inspect. He’d brought you to a new colony, where apparently a special holiday (complete with fun sales) was happening. Admittedly, some of the people on this station were giving you and Duo some especially strange looks whenever Duo would tug on your shirt or grab your hand to get your attention but like. Fuck them.

“Hey, those look pretty awesome!” he grinned and bounced over, snatching the gloves from your hands to look for a price tag. “To steal or not to steal, that is the question.”

You raised an eyebrow. So maybe the crush you’d developed on this overgrown child of a thief was growing. So what? It’s just a crush. Everything’s going to be fine. “Is the price tag expensive or something?”

Duo shook his head. “Exact opposite. There isn’t one.”

“Let’s just leave ten gilla and bolt, then.”

“...wicked.”

Normally the rides back home were silent and awkward, but after the rather exciting day you’d had, you were feeling especially chatty. Which wasn’t to say that there weren’t still awkward breaks in the conversation. It was quiet, sure, but a lot of things had been quiet lately. Being deaf to louder things tended to do that to a person.

Duo drew you out of your thoughts with another tug on your sleeve and pressed one of the gloves into your hand. “Here. Figured we’d both look badass with just one glove. Plus we match!” He held up his gloved left hand with an air of confidence. He wasn’t wrong, honestly. Wearing his braid the way he did, he already cut an impressive figure, but the gloves really sold the look.

You pulled on the glove he gave you, flexing your fingers to test it’s flexibility. After all, if you couldn’t engage in you and Duo’s elaborate handshake, you might have to ditch the glove altogether. Luckily the glove fit you well- functionality and style alike. Ten gilla spent well.

“Not bad. Y’think Zechs’ll get jealous?” Duo laughed at the idea.

“Doubtful, doesn’t he have Noin to get him cool stuff? Plus, I think his mask and that hair are defining accessories, what else does he need?”

You shrugged. “What gay wouldn’t love these? ‘M already enjoying mine ‘nd yours look more worn in than mine do. Solid fuckin’ proof right there.” Not like you could confirm or deny that Duo was gay. Honestly, you didn’t really care for his specific labels, but Zechs was definitely gay so it just helped further the joke. With his demeanor and his lesbian best friend? Could the flags get any gayer.

“More like pansexual on my account. Good to know your take on gender preference though. This mean I’m allowed to openly flirt with you now?” He leaned back into his seat, throwing his feet up onto the table in front of you and resting his head in his hands.

You raised an eyebrow. “Only if you promise not to ‘no homo’ me afterwards.” Duo pretended to fall backwards, clutching at the nonexistent pearls and acting offended. You two giggled when Sally came in from the cockpit to assure herself that somebody hadn’t just gotten a concussion. To which Duo immediately pretended to have a head wound of some sorts (you suspected he was being purposely vague) in hopes of attaining the candy that Sally sometimes had on hand.

Once she left (leaving you and Duo with strong warnings against fooling around more, lest Duo’s “head injury” get worse; to which you had saluted and replied, “absolutely no promises, ma’am!”) you shared a look with the brunette and tried to keep from dissolving into a fit of laughter. To your chagrin, it was a fail. You were laughing so hard that your stomach was starting to genuinely hurt. Duo was doubled over on the ground, wheezing unintelligible words and trying to hand you the lollipop that Sally gave him.

By the time you had managed to calm down and breathe, Duo was getting into the chair beside you and clutching his side. “I think I pulled a muscle from laughing so hard.”

“Yeesh, ‘m crying from laughin’ so much. Aah, this is what y’do to me.” You joked, wiping away tears from the corners of your eyes.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry before,” Duo paused to think. “like, at all! Now that I think about it, didja even cry when I rescued you?” You shrugged again. The battlefield was pretty terrifying and if you hadn’t found it in you to cry from fear… well, you were feeling a lot of emotions during the whole ordeal. Who could really blame you? “Pretty tough that a fuckin battle didn’t even make you cry. Hey- my bit musta been pretty damn good to make you shed a tear!”

“Yeah, don’t let it get to y’head. ‘S just because ‘m crushin on you.” You mentioned casually, testing the waters.

“Full homo?”

“Full homo.”

Well, would you look at that. Now Duo was crying. What was with you two and tears today?

BONUS:

“You’re so cheesy.” You muttered to Duo, who was proudly holding up your guys’s fingerless gloves- which he had sewn a rainbow patch onto the back of.

He smiled, tugging your glove onto your hand. “Mhm. You love it though.”

Sighing, you returned the favour and pulled his glove onto his right hand. “You’re right. I love it. I love you.”

[all works found under the name "nayarablueglasses" are property of nayarablueglasses. please do not repost, claim as your own, or edit. i do not consent for my works to be part of any social media other then tumblr, including having my works be adapted for asmrs.]

[preciousthingsareprecious]

Sniffles and Snuggles

Hello everyone! I am here with total fluff for today’s Comfortember prompt: Cuddling. 

Thanks @aeligsido for requesting Damian and Steph for this, I had fun figuring out how to make things work, I hope you enjoy it! 

AO3 Link

~

Damian sniffled and peered outside the door of his room, into the penthouse's main room, on the lookout for Richard. If the man found him he’d surely be sent back to bed, and that would quite simply ruin his plans to patrol. 

Richard needed someone by his side. It was Damian’s job to be that person. That’s why he was Robin, to keep Batman safe. And no stupid illness was going to stop him from achieving that goal. He just had to make it down to the bunker, get changed, and show Richard he was fine. 

He sniffed again, trying to keep his nose from running, and deemed it safe enough to duck out and make a break for the elevator to take him down to the bunker. Damian hurried forward and was just about at the door when a voice stopped him.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” 

Damian spun on his heel to find Brown standing in the middle of the room, with her hands on her hips looking far too proud of herself. 

He straightened and huffed, “That is none of your concern.” 

“Actually, I think it is.” Brown told him, letting a smile slip over her features, “Or did you forget the part where Dick told you I’d be coming over to keep an eye on you?”

Damian had indeed forgotten that particular piece of information. He had spent much of the day feeling cloudy and congested, and had done just about everything he could to sneak off for frequent naps designed to help his strength return so he could patrol. Richard must have told him while he’d been less aware than he should have been. 

“I do not need a babysitter.” 

“Because you’re not a baby, I know.” Brown told him, “You are, however, sick. With Alfred gone for the weekend Dick didn’t want you making yourself worse.” 

“Tt, I am--”

“Dames, you slept most of the day and spent last night throwing up. You are sick.” Richard had appeared, as if from nowhere. 

Damian wished he’d use his Batman skills less on him, and save them for the criminals. He would have told Richard as much, but he felt that left him open for another remark about his lack of awareness being ill. 

“I am better now.” He declared.

It sounded convincing, his voice clear, and nose for a moment drip free, then a cough tickled its way up his throat he just couldn’t stop. He coughed, and then doubled over as the tickle valiantly tried to free itself from his chest. When at last he straightened, catching his breath, it was to face two very stern, totally unconvinced, expressions. 

“Fine.” he said, voice hoarse, “But I will cover comms.” 

“Babs has that covered. And Cass promised to be back in time to help cover the last half of patrol. We’ll be fine.” Richard told him, “If you want to join me again before next Monday you’ll let Steph stuff you full of chicken soup and crappy B-rated horror films.” 

“I can--”

“You can manage, yes.” Brown and Richard said, in tandem.  

The two stopped, turned to look at each other and laughed. Richard waved his hand for Brown to continue. 

“I don’t know if you know this or not, but having someone help out when you’re sick makes things just a little less terrible.” she said.

Richard looked approving of the statement and Damian wanted to tell them both there was no need to team up against him like this. His head had started hurting, and exhaustion was creeping back into his body. The idea of soup and snuggling on the couch was an appealing one, and their arguments sound. He could trust Cain with Richard for an evening. 

Damian huffed, “Perhaps.”

Damian had grown used to Pennyworth’s assistance the few times he’d fallen ill while living in Gotham. And having Richard by his side had made things far more tolerable than he thought they could be. Snuggling in bed with a sibling reading to him was far more preferable than lonely days with nothing to do. Or worse, whenever Grandfather had told him he needed to push through the illness and continue training. 

Damian could take care of himself, but perhaps he did not need to. 

“It’s settled then. You hit the couch. I’ll start on that soup.” 

Brown gave him the most obvious air quotes as she said soup, but Damian could not for the life of him figure out what she might mean other than what she had said. When he looked to Richard with a raised brow the man only grinned. 

“I’ll leave you two to it then. Try to make sure he’s in bed at a reasonable time?” 

With that Richard abandoned Damian for the Bunker to start on pre-patrol work. Damian watched him go, and stood in the living room long enough that Brown had to usher him to the couch again. 

“Go, pick out a movie. Any movie as long as it’s not Disney or the Princess Bride.” 

Damian huffed, “I will have you know the sword fights in--”

Brown interrupted him, “I know it’s a good movie, I just watched it with Cass yesterday. Pick one of those horror movies Dick suggested. Maybe Tremors or something.” 

“Must it be a bad movie?” Damian asked, settling onto the cushions. 

He tugged a thick, fluffy blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around his shoulders, then leaned against the arm of the couch, content to stare at the television’s black screen. 

“No,” Brown said, her voice much closer, "but sometimes bad movies are the best cure for the sniffles. That and ice cream."

She set two bowls down on the coffee table, and Damian pushed himself up to look inside. She had not gotten him soup, but ice cream instead.

“You are aware I have a sore throat?” 

“Are you admitting to being sick?” Brown asked. 

Damian crossed his arms and glared at her, “I believe I already did.”

Brown pushed the bowl towards him, “It’s fine, it’ll help I promise. And if the cold is too much I’ll make you some tea too.” 

“Tea would be appreciated.” 

“Fine.” Brown said, but did not seem bothered, “Just wait for the kettle to whistle and I’ll get you some chamomile.”

“With lemon.” 

“With lemon.”

Damian nodded, and picked up his bowl, stirring the ice cream around a bit.

“So,” Brown asked around a mouthful of her own ice cream, “What do you want to watch?”

“What about The Mummy?”

Brown’s eyes lit up and Damian almost reconsidered.

“I would love to watch that with you.” 

Between bites of ice cream, she rented the movie and got it set up, declaring they’d start after both of them had finished their treat. Damian rolled his eyes, but understood the desire not to want to clean up in the middle of the film. 

Soon bowls were traded out for mugs of tea, and Brown was stealing part of Damian’s blanket as the movie started. 

The tea helped soothe Damian’s throat, and the warm blanket had his eyes drooping despite the fact that he was totally enthralled in the movie. He shifted, sitting up, and then again, to lean into Brown, who had stolen more of his blanket at this point. Even with tea warming his stomach, the ice cream had left him chilled. Or maybe that was whatever bug he’d caught. 

He leaned over, and then into Brown’s arm, finding warmth there at last. After a moment, she looped her arm around him, and tugged him closer until they were snuggling, the blanket wrapped around them both. Damian’s heavy eyes drifting even as he watched a plane battle it’s way through a supernatural sandstorm. 

Damian was out before he even knew if they landed or not.